Make or Break
by Stakeaclaim
Summary: Sequel to Love and Remembrance. The battle is over and Angel and Spike look forward to their new life. But happiness can be insubstantial, as Spike and Angel discover.
1. Happiness

**_Disclaimer_:**

Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

_**Warning:**_

Sexual reference

_**Distribution:**_

If you want it please let me know first – I like to keep track of them.

_**Summary:**_

The battle is over and Angel and Spike look forward to their new life. But happiness can be insubstantial, as Spike discovers.

* * *

**Make or Break**

**Chapter 1**

**Happiness**

It was ironic. Only that night they had discussed happiness. Philosophical meanderings, as the peaceful softness of darkness wrapped around them, soothing the turbulent sea of emotions that had ebbed and flowed during the past twenty-four hours. Following their victory over the legions of hell there had been much to do; caring for wounded slayers, the heart-rending task of recording those who fell, returning their bodies to families who would never understand the importance of their sacrifice. The majority of uninjured slayers had departed for their own countries and states. Some few remained, awaiting flights.

"Giles has transferred the wounded to Council quarters."

Angel nodded his approval.

"The others?"

"Shipping out tomorrow."

"They really came through."

"Yeah, they saved your bacon, Mate. Considering half of them are only kids, they fought like hellions."

"You're going to continue training them?"

"Course, they're mine. How about you?"

"I've signed that contract with Giles and the new Council. Wesley, Fred and Gunn want to start up the Agency again. Then there are your visions. Guess I'm going to be pretty busy."

"Wolfram and Hart?"

"Going to presume their attempt to terminate me indicates the rescinding of my contract."

"Normal Wolfram and Hart overkill, a letter of dismissal normally does the trick. Get Gunn to sue for unfair dismissal. Tie _them_ up in legalese for a change."

"Don't be an id…. Actually, that's an interesting idea."

"Common sense, attack's the best form of defence."

"Huh. Any other pearls of wisdom?"

"Always guard your perimeter."

"You amaze me. All those years I tried to teach you, ignite the spark of your curiosity, always thinking I'd failed miserably."

"Ignite the spark….! All I used to get was 'be quiet, William, no more of your dumb questions, Boy'."

"Yeah, well, you were always curious about the wrong things."

"Things you didn't know the answers to, you mean."

Angel's grunt was noncommittal.

"So… why can't I see my clothes in the mirror when I'm wearing them or even when I'm holding them? Yet if I hold a human their reflection still appears?"

"It's to do with the animate and inanimate. The inanimate has no will and becomes an extension of you, the living have their own existence, independent of you, not subject to the laws that govern you."

Spike looked amused.

"You've given this some serious thought since the last time I asked. Did I ignite the spark of your curiosity, Pet?"

"It drove Angelus insane; the questions you asked that he couldn't answer." Angel admitted.

"I know. Always enjoyed irritating Angelus."

"You succeeded. Surprised you lived to tell the tale."

"Won him around with my natural charm."

Angel gave a derisive snort of disbelieving laughter.

Spike looked at him, at his laughing face, such an unfamiliar sight that it made Spike realise how heartbreakingly miserable the vampire normally was. He found the laughter deeply poignant.

"So you happy then, Peaches?" Spike asked softly.

"What do you think? Having you foisted on me as my seer? Forced to endure your company for the rest of eternity?" Angel gave the huge sigh of a sublimely contented man, which gave lie to his complaining tone.

"I think I make your happiness complete." Spike grinned.

Angel took in the suspicion of a smirk and the self-satisfied expression.

"No, I think the Powers are making sure I have an eternity of torment and suffering." He contradicted.

"And I volunteered my services, eternal torment with a side-order of suffering, coming up."

Angel turned away, maintaining his stoic image whilst hiding his rumbling turmoil. He thought he'd lost everything, sacrificing himself and his friends in a defiant but ultimately useless gesture. He still could hardly believe his desperate gamble had paid off.

Spike noticed the hunched shoulders and guessed what he was thinking.

"Hey, Pet, it's alright. Sure, it'll all turn to shit again, but right this moment everything's how it should be."

He rubbed a hand over those broad shoulders and then casually pulled him into an embrace.

Angel felt one cold hand settle on his neck, solid, physical evidence of all he'd achieved. A companion, a childe and a seer.

"When I was in Pylea there was this guy doing the dance of joy. That's how I feel, as if I'm doing this insane dance of joy…. I'm not alone anymore. Do you know what it means?"

"Yeah, I know. Loneliness is the killer." Spike agreed. "Even quarrelling with you was better than loneliness."

"Never again though. I always thought that Shanshu would be the end. Earn redemption, become human and finally die. That's all it ever was to me, task done and closure. Then as I turned you, made you my childe, the woman called it; 'the doorway to the flawless heart of the universe', the means to redemption. Alone we would have failed, together we have a chance. No more loneliness. Bound together. My seer for eternity. My childe…"

"Give it several days and you'll be cursing the fact."

"When you were human but I thought you were dead…."

"You were strong, Angel. You're always strong."

"Yeah but when I'm alone… it's too hard without you. I'm talking about life, you get that don't you?"

Spike gave a cockeyed grin. "Whatever."

They stood together looking out at the dark landscape of the gardens, so peaceful, almost idyllic.

"Difficult to believe it was a battleground." Angel commented.

"Yeah, that was one helluva welcome home party, Pet. Not everyday we get the chance to battle a dragon. Huh… home." He savoured the word. "Gotta say, it's bloody good to be back."

"Don't ever disappear again." The emotionless tone failed to disguise the depth of feeling.

Spike reflected a second before sighing.

"I can't promise and neither can you. We do whatever's necessary."

"I'm glad you're here but it's raised the stakes. I guess everything's easier when there's nothing to lose."

"You were just disconnected. That place drove you insane with doubt."

"I know, but don't you ever worry that everything we do is pointless?"

"You see. This is just your problem; you think too much. It does you no good. Look, we play our part as best as we can. Yeah, sometimes we're wrong and sometimes we stumble, we're not saints. But there's one thing I've learnt from all this; wasting energy on regret is one the most pointless ways of spending an hour, far better to work out the angst doing something practical and go kick the shit out of another evil monster."

Angel rolled his eyes.

"Don't patronise me, Childe. I know we're not saints and when you're grabbing your axe, I've already got my sword in my hand. I was only asking if you ever felt doubt."

"Oh. Well yeah, sometimes." Spike admitted. "But I refuse to brood on it and it passes."

"I don't…"

"Yeah, you do."

"I prefer to think of it as…"

"Pondering? Same …"

"Not what…"

"Contem…."

"No. Well, okay. Yes. But I need…"

"Understood."

"Then why the…"

"Not criticism. Just commenting…"

"Oh."

"You're too…"

"I'm not defensive!"

Spike raised his eyebrow at this comment and Angel had the grace to concede. They enjoyed the familiarity of old, meaningless verbal sparring, so well used it almost slipped into non-verbal. It had all the comfort of old clothes and worn slippers.

"Frightening that it's taken us over a hundred years to reach this time and place. All it needs is for some hell god to sneeze and we'll be blown away."

Angel looked thoughtful before replying softly, "Happiness never lasts though, does it? The more you attempt to protect it, the faster it slips away."

"Typical. Your only unhappiness is your fear of losing it." Spike's eyes crinkled with amusement. "You're a constant contradiction, Pet."

"Just saying, it's insubstantial. The only certainty is this moment."

"We can plan for other moments just like this."

"And whilst we make plans, real life happens."

"Then you have to seize the day."

"Carpe diem? You were always about seizing the moment."

"Yeah, I was. No change there then."

Spike suddenly leant forward and kissed him. Not the gentle kiss of a loving childe or even over exuberant man-to-man affection that males sometimes shared in moments of triumph. The kiss was rising passion and need. He pulled away and laughed quietly at Angel's shocked expression.

Neither vampire normally expressed or showed such blatant displays of emotion, except maybe under the guise of blood and bonding. Spike's eyes held a wicked gleam and Angel fingered his lips wondering what the kiss meant. An interesting potential, certainly. Then he frowned. Spike must realise there were some places they could never explore again.

"Sun's rising." Spike remarked as though nothing extraordinary had occurred.

It was still pitch black, but towards the horizon the skies held a hint of iron grey.

"A new day. What will we make of it?"

"Sleep gets my personal vote."

Angel agreed with a theatrical stretch, allowing one arm to drop companionably around his childe's shoulders. They descended to the basement they had turned into a nest in some other lifetime. Undressing, they shared a bed for the first time since Spike had fallen at the Greater Well.

"You're one day old, Spike."

Spike frowned, "That can't be right. You can't start counting from the beginning."

"Sure I can. Vamps don't count the years before their turning and you rose a day ago."

"When Buffy returned to life we didn't start counting again."

"This is different. You're my childe, I'm your sire and I say how it's going to be, Fledge."

"Master vampire here, one that's gonna whip your hide. Sire."

Angel smiled. He reached out an arm to allow Spike to settle on his shoulder.

"Whatever you say, but save the whipping for tomorrow, I'm beat."

"Yeah, me too."

"So does it feel different this time around?"

Spike was silent

"Being turned again, being my childe?"

"It feels no different." He lied.

"All that soul searching just for that?"

But Spike would say nothing more.

Angel wrapped an arm around Spike's neck, wrist pressed to his mouth.

"Drink. I want my fledgling to grow big and strong. He's got some interesting times ahead."

Spike grunted in annoyance at being called a fledge, but his irritation didn't extend to refusing sire's blood. In some ways he was very much the fledgling Angel named him. He latched on to the wrist and felt the blood course through his body and sighed in contentment, falling asleep with fangs still embedded in Angel's flesh. Angel left them there, until, as Spike slumbered, his face relaxed into his human aspect and his head tilted away. He took Spike's hand and brought a finger to his mouth, then gently bit down, rolling the few drops of blood around his mouth, attempting to find what it was that Spike was so eager to hide. There he found it, something new, something that belonged wholly to his childe. He tasted a deep passion and need for his sire, far surpassing anything he'd ever felt for Angelus. Spike loved him with the devotion of a new childe. And feared his loss with the resignation of experience.

Soul and demon reached a rare agreement. They would never leave this childe again. Instead he would search again for ways to secure his soul, something he'd never pursued before, never having the spur to drive him to attempt it. Now, as he looked at Spike's sleeping face, almost beautiful in repose, he found all the stimulus he needed. He remembered nights between their unsouled selves and wanted to explore this new thing with his souled childe. His blood quickened at the thought, and he felt the thrill of excitement pulse through him. Never since the curse had life held such promise. This afternoon, he would begin investigating it the moment he woke.

Angel was weary, this was his first rest since the battle and he quickly followed his childe into sleep, thinking of their life to come. Their quest for redemption wouldn't be easy. Even now they might still fail. He hadn't been bluffing when he mentioned interesting times. He'd overheard the conversation between Buffy and Willow just before they'd left. With a small smile, he hugged the knowledge tightly, wondering if life could get any better…

Fred was wondering the same thing. She had been the first to raise her hand when Angel asked for volunteers to help him against the Circle of Black Thorn. She'd done so with no expectation of surviving. They'd had all the power of Wolfram and Hart at their disposal but it had meant nothing as, ultimately powerless, they fell from one crisis to the next. She'd gotten tired of it and as she raised her hand so the power and certainty had flooded back. She'd drawn the line in the sand, this far and no further. Not everyone had the luxury of choosing the time and manner of their death. She'd chosen this time and this fight.

Yet against all odds she had survived and so had everyone she cared about. They were going to start up Angel Investigation. The Council had proved itself in its first major battle. And Wesley loved her. She corrected herself. She and Wesley were lovers. She looked across at his face highlighted by the soft glow of a nightlight. His long lashes sweeping towards his cheeks, his sleep tousled hair, the slight curve of his lips as he slept...

"I can feel you looking at me." He murmured without opening his eyes.

"That was an easy guess. I'm always looking at you."

"What have I done to deserve you?"

"Maybe you were really bad in a past life." She suggested and a smile tugged at his mouth.

He stretched a hand sleepily towards her. She took it and laid it against her face. She loved his touch.

"What were you thinking?"

"Oh, I was just wishing that everyone was as happy as us."

"I think Angel and Spike are."

"Wasn't it amazing when Spike stepped out? You could feel the shock of emotions ripple through the battlefield. Then when they worked together to bring down the dragon… you're right, I've never seen them so happy."

They snuggled down to enjoy their last couple of hours of sleep before it was time to rise again.

Minutes after falling asleep Angel awoke, jolting himself upright. His eyes widened with terror. It couldn't be… he'd been happy but there had been no sex, sure he'd been thinking of it, but he'd definitely remember sharing orgasms with Spike.

Then there was no time for thought, he could feel agony building inside, tearing at the fabric of his identity and splitting him in two. For an instance, he was a cloven figure of a man, writhing in anguish, howling out against the loss of his most precious possession, as his soul ripped loose and the demon struggled free, breaking its hated shackles.

He fled, fearing the wave of destruction his demon would unleash. Staggering outside and sinking to his knees, a burgeoning scream of despair was swallowed by euphoric laughter as Angelus emerged from the depth of imprisonment. He raised himself from the ground and the predator surveyed his world with delight. He was free and the night belonged to him.

The world was full of wonder and potential, he felt like a newborn vampire, lost to the sights and the scents, and oh! What fragrances. Blood and pain from the recent battle. Slayer blood. He smacked his lips at the thought of the house, a veritable chocolate box filled with tasty morsels, slayers, young and sweet as nectar.

Then a frown marred his brow as he remembered Spike, the one thing that he and Angel agreed upon - the turning of Spike. The newly forged blood bond was roaring in his ears. It called to him and, souled or not, he wanted his boy, wanted to teach him what it meant, to be the childe of Angelus. But the slayers and Spike combined, presented a problem. Reluctant as he was to abandon his fledgling, their bond meant he couldn't hide or dissemble. Spike's awareness and the slayers collective strength would have him bound and souled in no time. He growled in anger but accepted that he had no immediate alternative, except to flee the nest, stretching the golden thread of their bond until it snapped.

He moved quietly back inside, dressing and picking up the things he needed. All but one. His childe was resting in sweet oblivion. Angelus thought of picking him up and running. But he wouldn't risk his freedom, not before he'd considered all his options. He would have liked to have left some clue, a sketch or a bloodied heart but he didn't have time for his games… yet. Instead, he departed quickly, taking a Wolfram and Hart car, still stowed in the garage. As he drove away he reflected that nothing was forever and when he'd reached full strength then he would be back for his childe.

He melted into the night as though he were part of it.

Spike slept deeply until the afternoon, awakening with a stretch and a grunt, wondering where Angel had disappeared to. He called out, planning to tease him for neglecting his day old childe, but there was no answer. Unconcerned, he showered and wandered upstairs. Still no sign of Angel. He hung with the remaining slayers and contacted Wesley and Giles to discover if they'd sent the other vampire out on some mission but no one had seen him or heard from him.

Everyone convened at the house and began dealing with the outstanding practical matters. Giles drove the last of the visiting slayers to the airport and then helped Gunn, Fred and Wesley set to work clearing away the detritus of the battle. Gunn scouted the grounds to gather any weapons that were still serviceable.

"Hell! I've got myself an armoury."

"Give them to the Council." Spike said. "They're more likely to need that quantity of weaponry than we are."

"What all of them?" Gunn asked in disappointment.

"Well, no. I'll take that…."

"Axe." The others chorused.

"I'm not that predictable. I was going to say… well yeah, ok. Axe. Pass it over will you?"

Giles eyed the gory weapons with distaste.

"I fervently hope you were planning on cleaning them before palming them off onto me?"

"Of course. Charlie boy was just going to suggest that very thing. Weren't you?"

"Hey it' ok with me. Would rather be cleaning weapons than cleaning a house. Probably why the vampire has gone AWOL, washing and cleaning is clearly women's work."

Chris and Erica entered just as he finished speaking.

Gunn took in the situation; Fred hovering with a nasty looking scourge in her hand and the two slayers who headed Spike's crack squad.

"Yeah. Sorting and classifying weapons, clearly women's work. You know it takes… ummm intelligence and…uhh… guys help me out?" He pleaded.

They eyed him with pity but turned away, after all they had their own skins to protect.

"Whaddya think, Chris? Fred? Leave him in one piece or…" Erica asked a nasty gleam in her eye as she fingered the edge of a lethal looking dagger.

"Well he is sort of on our side, I suppose." Fred said.

"Fair enough. Gunn you get on with cleaning the house and we'll make a start on the weapons."

Gunn cut his losses and dutifully picked up a cloth.

"So no one knows where the ponce has gone, then?" Spike asked for the third time.

"We're not his keepers, Spike."

"Could have bloody well left us a message though."

"Maybe it's a surprise. He might have gone to the mall. He threw out most your things when you, you know… left." Fred suggested.

"Buying me presents, you mean?" Spike's eyes lit up. It would be just like the Poof, the only man he'd ever known who actually enjoyed shopping.

So Spike relaxed and spent the rest of the day rediscovering old routines, training his slayers and hindering with the cleaning. But as evening fell and the night wore on he felt a twinge of uneasiness and tried to fight down a useless surge of anxiety.

"Still no word from him?" Gunn asked.

"Not yet." Fred replied with a small shrug.

"You've got to admit, its damned odd."

Spike was fiddling with his empty mug and finally gave in to his nagging disquiet.

"Sod this."

Withdrawing to the basement he found the silence he needed. This was something he'd never attempted before, a deliberate search for his sire. He knew it could be done; Angel had used it before to locate him. Closing his eyes he concentrated and followed the tendrils of their bond. Relief swept through him. Still alive. But there was no sense of direction in the link, just a feeling of distance. Alive but distant. What the hell was happening?

They searched the city, questioned contacts and interrogated anyone who might have information, with limited success. The general conclusion confirmed Spike's suspicions. Angel had left.

"Well at least he's still alive." Giles said.

"But why has he left? Supposing he's been kidnapped or something?"

Wesley took Fred's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

"Don't worry, we'll find him. Willow was kind enough to suggest a number of spells, in case of emergencies."

Spike was sick of all the talking.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Wesley was confident and began with the demon finding spell. They spread out a map of the U.S.

"I've been wanting to try this out. Willow thought it would come in useful eventually. Can you give me something of Angel's please?"

There was silence as sand was distributed evenly over the map.

"There we have it." Wesley pronounced with quiet satisfaction. "He's in Wyoming…?"

"And Dallas."

"Florida. New York. Kansas."

"Oh dear."

"Bloody hell! Don't say that, Percy. It never bodes well."

"What's gone wrong, Wes?"

"Nothing, that is, I've done everything just as Willow advised."

"So there are now twenty odd Angels?" Gunn asked.

It was Giles who replied.

"Obviously not. I believe Angel knew we would try to locate him in this manner and he's reflected shadows of himself around the country."

"Whaddya mean shadows?"

"Of course." Wesley agreed. "It's shadow play. Making an Angel shaped shadow and projecting it far away from where he is. Although it does appear to suggest that he doesn't wish to be discovered."

Spike's apprehension changed to leaden apathy and his fragile happiness evaporated. Angel had left and didn't want to be found. He'd frigging run off again.

"Try something else."

Wesley thought for a minute.

"There is something but I'm not as adept as Willow. But maybe, it's not as if I have to search other planes of existence. Yes, I think this could work…"

"What?" Spike asked with a frown.

"I don't know how much they told you about their attempt to find you. Willow searched for your soul, expecting to find it in some hell dimension. I think Buffy had some notion of rescuing you from hell."

"She did?" Spike and Giles made a perfect duet of the words.

Wesley merely raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Instead they found you in London. Not exactly hell."

"You've never tried commuting on the underground during rush hour."

"Quite. Anyway, providing I don't have to search other dimensions then I think this soul search would work."

"What are we waiting for?"

"I need to meditate and please no distractions."

Wesley sat cross-legged, using a crystal as his focus. The others waited in silence as the minutes dragged out. Finally, Wesley gasped and fell forward, Fred was immediately there, putting an arm around him.

"You ok?" she asked.

He opened his eyes and nodded

"Well?"

"I'm sorry. His soul is either no longer here or Angel has found a way of blocking this search too."

"He just doesn't want to be found, Spike man. Maybe we should give him his space. He'll turn up again eventually."

"Why would Angel leave? He seemed happy." Fred asked the question that was in all their thoughts.

"Maybe it wasn't Angel, I couldn't locate his soul, it could mean… was he with you when you slept?"

Spike nodded.

"I'm sorry, but I must ask. Were you and Angel…intimate?" Wesley asked.

"Intimate? We shared blood occasionally so I'd say, yeah, pretty intimate." Spike replied with deliberate misunderstanding. "What's your point?"

"No, I mean did you know him…in the biblical sense?"

"Hell, Wes." Gunn shook his head in disbelief. "The man wants to know if you and Angel were getting it on, you know doing the groiny thing?"

"Doing the groiny thing? Good grief. What the children are trying to ask is, did you and Angel engage in sexual intercourse?" Giles clarified.

"Yeah, what he said." Gunn agreed.

"What do you think we are? Even if we wanted to, which we didn't, there's this little curse thing. You honestly think either of us would be that irresponsible?"

There was a shuffling of feet and shaking of heads but their eyes remained doubtful.

"Christ on a cross! The answer is no, ok?"

"So why did he leave, did you argue?"

"Yeah, course. We argue all the time. But he was happy. Pig in shit, cow in clover happy."

"Can you feel him now?"

"Nothing specific, either he's too far away or he's shielding. I'm getting nothing."

"Right, we'll do what we can to find him, use our contacts, try more spells, whatever it takes. We will find him, Spike."

The days wore on. Spike was scratchy and restless. He might be over a hundred years old but at the same time he was no different from any other newborn vampire. He needed his sire. Sometimes he was overwhelmed with need and the restlessness would drive him from the house, seeking to release his energy into hunting and confronting the latest evil, running like the wind to chase it down and battling with the frenzy of a whirling dervish. On nights like these he would return bloodied and tired, physical exhaustion finally sending him to sleep. Mostly he would be tied up in research, chasing down the smallest of clues, hardly sleeping and hardly waking but in that in between stage, constantly on edge, held in limbo. Waiting.

It was one of those days. He was sitting at the computer going through Angel's files, hoping that something would click into place and make sense of the puzzle. There was an audible click. Another email. He didn't recognise the email address: Some pretentious spotty school kid more than likely. Still even spotty school kids might need help. He opened it.

Spike stared at the message on his screen trying to take it in:

_After the kiss, I realised what was in your heart. I bit your finger and tasted it in your blood. I haven't that sort of passion in me. Not for you. Decided it would be better if I left. Sorry. Don't try to find me. A._

Short, to the point and finally, a reason for his abandonment. He stared in pained disbelief. He remembered long nights when passion pulled at them as continuously and as powerfully as the tides that rose to meet the moons. Passion that seemed insatiable when they'd tumble to the bed again, laughing at their exuberance and need.

He sent his reply

_Liar._

Why had Angel claimed to leave because of the kiss? It hurt too much. He stopped thinking. The click of a received email, he sat for a while and contemplated it, lying in his inbox like a trap waiting to be sprung. He went and heated up a mug of blood. He needed all the strength he could muster. Finally he opened it.

_You mistake me for Angelus._

Was that true? It was Angelus who had travelled with him on that voyage of discovery. He himself had been un-souled, yet it had still been his journey and his passion. Maybe this was different for his sire. Did he even know Angel? One thing he knew for sure.

_You were happy with me…_

He wanted to take back that message as soon as he'd sent it. It looked too pathetic and needy. He was such a sad tosser. Maybe he could recall it… too late it had been opened. Supposing he denied even his happiness. Yet that couldn't be right, Spike had tasted it in his blood and seen it shining from him, making him vibrant and alive. He'd been doing the sodding Pylean happy dance.

click

_I was. But with the kiss you changed the rules. It switched something off inside me. You fell asleep and I had a vision of you offering your skinny little ass to me… I freaked and left._

Damn. That had to be up there with Cecily and Buffy and the most wounding words given to him. He seemed to be making quite a collection of them. There must be some way of putting this right.

_Come home. I can live without passion._

click

_Liar_

This casual cruelty was unlike Angel. The only thing he was sure about was that Angel was deliberately pushing him away. It went against everything they'd built over the past months.

_You're afraid of the curse_.

Spike was almost certain he had a handle on where Angel was coming from. He'd been happy and was afraid of where of it might lead.

_Whatever you want, Spike. Yeah. Sure. I was afraid of finding perfect happiness in your ass. Sheesh._

Spike considered the message. He found it hard to say whether it was the sarcasm or the patronising tone he most objected to. Or maybe it was the realisation that perhaps Angel was speaking the truth and he'd lost him. Friendship, love, companionship all lost because of his weakness, his inability to keep his bloody stupid feelings to himself. Barely one week old and he'd lost his sire already. Nice going Spike, new bloody record.

He stood up, stepped back and then kicked out at the screen, sending it hurtling across the room and crashing into the far wall. The noise brought Fred running in.

"Spike! Why…?"

His eyes held a peculiar emptiness.

"I've lost…" He stopped, unable to give voice to his loss.

"You lost…? Oh! The computer beat you at one of your games?"

Wesley and Gunn also entered and surveyed the wreckage.

"I know what it's like. You're on the edge of your seat, nearly finished a level and then you crash and burn. It's a natural reaction. Never mind man, you may have lost at Full Metal Jacket, but you beat it hands down at kick boxing."

"Maybe you should try Simcity, I find it most relaxing." Wesley recommended.

He looked at them with incredulous eyes.

"Are you all stupid?"

No immediate answer sprang to their minds

"Angel has left. It's my fault 'parently. He doesn't want us to search for him."

He looked at their shocked faces, shook his head and stomped out.


	2. Destruction

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None for this chapter

**_Summary: _**The team finally realise that Angelus has returned and that this time Spike is his obsession. Angelus lays his plans. Hewould destroy the world to keep from being enslaved to the soul.

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**Chapter 2**

**Destruction**

Angelus was alone and he hated it. He was surprised at how heavily a lack of a companion weighed upon him and this sense of wrongness niggled at him constantly, making him restless and uneasy. He longed for the old days, to see his power reflected back at him in the eyes of his family. But time had wreaked its havoc and his mighty clan had fallen. Now only his two childer remained. One of them insane and the other ensouled.

He searched for Drusilla, called across the world to her, but she was ever fickle and did not come. Instead he turned his mind back to Spike; the childe he'd regretfully left behind, and decided if he had nothing else, he would have Spike. He began investigating the possibility of banishing his soul.

Angelus spent months tracking down the greatest sorcerers. He threatened, fought and killed. He cajoled, he bribed and he cut deals, with the audaciousness and determination that became legendary in the demon world. By the time he finally admitted defeat, he had re-established his reputation as one of the most ferocious and fearsome demons of his time. Yet fail he did, all his attempts came to nothing and the answer remained the same; the soul was tightly bound to his body, departing only when his body had crumbled to dust.

He began to direct his thoughts towards creating a new family. Surely Spike couldn't be that unique? He deliberately chose those humans that bore some resemblance to his childe and awaited each awakening with eager anticipation. But the ones he made were inferior substitutes and he could not tolerate any of them for long. They were too cowardly, too stupid, too dull or too meek; they lacked Spike's beauty, his humour, his exuberance, his casual grace. Each time he turned a human hoping that this was the one. Gradually he came to realise that there was no substitute for his ensouled childe. After their turning, he no longer shared his powerful blood and those he'd created with suchhigh hopes and expectations, deteriorated into expendable minions and lackeys. He sent some brighter ones to gather news and to set a watch over Spike and the rest of Angel's friends. After all, knowledge was power and eventually he'd find a way to use this power.

Whilst considering the problem of the soul, his contemplation expanded to embrace human wickedness. It occurred to him that despite their souls, humans could educate demons in the subjects of cruelty and destruction. A soul was corruptible, therefore so was Spike. This line of thought attracted his interest and brought the old glint back to his eyes and the cunning vampire began to devise a plan.

He appreciated that he would have the might of the Council and the strength of the slayers to contend with. Rashness would lead to failure and never again would he allow himself to become incarcerated within a soul again. The first thing he needed to do was remove that potential threat. He focused his attentionon the only person who had ever successfully re-souled him. The witch. Unfortunately, killing Willow would be a little difficult. Who would have believed that geeky little red-head would grow into the most powerful witch currently living? Hell, what next? Xander Harris, superhero?

What he needed was something that would take all of Willow's attention, a diversion. He cast his mind back to earlier times for anything that might distract her and keep her bound to a different fight. There were various demons and monsters he could call upon buttheywere notwhat herequired forthis situation and for the momenthe could think of nothing suitable.

oooo

Spike was truly abandoned. Again.

Apathy transmuted to rage against Angel's betrayal. Any hope began to fade and the months passed without further word. Gradually, anger became mixed with self-hatred. He blamed himself for being such a pathetic wanker. He should never have revealed his cowardly fear of loneliness or exposed his passion in that kiss. He imagined the pure contempt Angel must have felt to take flight without a word.

Meanwhile, the visions continued without regard for the missing Champion. Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Giles and his L.A. slayers rallied around, rescuing victims and capably filling one of the Angel-shaped holes. But there was one void they could not fill andthat was buried deep in Spike's heart, where he suffered alone.

It was Gunn who made the break through. His old crew picked up a homeless guy who had travelled north from San Francisco. The man knew about vampires and reported that there was a new player in that city, picking out a certain type of guy. Wesley had run through police reports and examined the missing persons' photographs. He frowned slightly, the connection was staring him in the face and the implications…. He showed the photographs to Spike.

Spike leafed through them, betraying no sign of emotion. Wesley broke the silence.

"They all look a little like you."

He couldn't deny it and Wesley continued.

"It's Angelus, isn't it? He's turning them"

"Well maybe, but how could that tosser have returned? I think I'd have noticed if we'd…"

Spike frowned, his head full of scenarios each more unlikely than the last. Angel sneaking upstairs to shag with one of the slayers? On a scale of 1 to 10, and taking into account his relationship with a very young Buffy, he gave that likelihood a 3. Angel and himself shagging and then doing a spell to make him forget was even more difficult to believe and got a zero. Angel taking advantage of him whilst he slept and him not noticing? Minus three. Unless he used a date rape drug, which was ludicrous…. Even Spike realised his thoughts had tumbled into the ridiculous. There must be something they were missing.

They called Willow and discussed the curse, it was a revealing conversation. Her idea of happiness was a little more complex than that of persecuted gypsy folk. Being loved by the one she loved, being accepted by those she respected and saving the world from evil. Orgasms, although very nice, didn't necessarily feature, perfection being more concerned with inner rather than physical satisfaction. They considered Angel, accepted by his son, loved by his childe, respected by the slayers, vanquishing the legions of hell and set back on his path with the blessings of the Powers That Be. Willow agreed it sounded perfect.

The Council and Angel Investigations erupted into a flurry of activity. They focused their search on San Francisco but he'd had too much time to prepare. If he was still there then he'd set up powerful veiling magicks.

"I have contacts in San Francisco but they can't find any sign of him. God knows where he is." Wesley was beginning to sound defeated.

"We'll just carry on searching. Damn I wish I still had access to the contracts that Wolfram and Hart hold. I'm certain he'll have been setting up deals all over." Gunn said with some frustration.

"But we don't, so we'll just have to continue searching in the-old fashioned way." Wesley replied.

Spike nodded. Despite the bad news that they had lost Angelus, he felt more at peace than he had during all those long months since Angel had vanished. All his anger at Angel disappeared. It was just life pissing on them again. He wavered between joy that Angel hadn't deliberately walked away from him and uncertainty that seeped into his bones. What did the change in the curse mean for Angel and himself? His face remained neutral; hiding both his hopes and fears. But his eyes betrayed his doubts.

oooo

Angelus went out to hunt, taking his frustration out on this city he despised. He'd much preferred San Francisco but reports indicated that the hounds were closing in and he had quickly moved on.

Winter was setting in early and the humans were swathed in coats and scarves, which was irritating. He hated having to unwrap all that fussy packaging before he could eat. Finally, a smooth throat lay bare and exposed in front of him. He allowed canines to linger on the pulse point in anticipating of the pleasurable warmth and the rich flavour,carrying the underlying metallic taste of terror. Her face felt chilled even against his own cold skin. He was about to crunch in and take his fill when suddenly he let her drop, his eyes distant and thoughtful. Her icy cold skin had given him an idea and he quickly returned to the lair and called for the minions.

The idea began to take shape. There was so much to arrange when travelling distances and his destination was remote and inhospitable. He wished he had some of his reliable minions of old. Nevertheless, there were a few in this batch who were capable. He'd long got tired of seeing images of Spike wherever he looked and his current troupe were more varied, picked according to their skills rather than appearance. It was time they were tested. He set them to work organising the details of the trip.

"I'll be gone for about a week. Kyle and Elle you're with me. Smith," he indicated the bulky minion who towered over the others, "you're to see to things whilst I'm away. We'll leave as soon as possible. If any of you let me down, I'll… well, I don't need to threaten you do I?" He asked with a look of pleasant enquiry on his face.

It was true, he didn't. They were already terrified of him.

Now that he was taking control he finally felt something like his old self again. The joy in hatching and juggling fiendish plans and the pleasure in his own cunning, there was nothing to beat it. This new undertaking was his first step to his childe and he finally allowed his thoughts to turn to William. He was almost in sight, and damn, Angelus was looking forward to the thrill of the chase, the struggle for dominance and finally the pleasure of having Spike at his side once more.

oooo

"Our problem is, of course, Angel was familiar with our techniques, so Angelus knows what he's fighting. Also, like all supernatural creatures he has an affinity for magic. If he wants to disappear off our radar he can. I'm convinced that we would do better searching for him utilising human processes." Wesley said.

"Human processes? You mean trawling through papers and police reports?" Spike's voice held a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"Tedious I know, but we have to presume he'll have minions now. He and his entourage will make an impact wherever they settle. Besides the glut of missing people, one of them will eventually make a mistake."

"Good point, actually. New minions are a bunch of brain dead tossers. Although we might not need to find him, there's a pretty good chance that he'll find us first. I doubt if he's spent the last few months holidaying or relaxing on some moon-drenched beach."

Wesley sighed wearily.

"That has occurred to me. I'm particularly concerned about you, Spike. We've been developing tracers - a mixture of the magical and the technological. They're only prototypes but early indications are excellent. I would like you to carry one. We'll sew one into the hem of your coat and you won't even know it's there"

Spike protested out of habit. "It's a bit Big Brother, innit? And I'm talking about 1984, not the reality show, yeah?"

Wesley shook his head in earnest disagreement.

"It's essential for your safety. We've seen both Angel and Angelus in the throes of obsession before and those pictures indicate that, this time, you're his fixation. You, more than anyone, Spike, must understand what he's capable of. I'll begin searching for him but meanwhile, we all have to keep safe. We need to know where you are at all times. If it makes you feel any better, the rest of the team will also be tagged."

"So what's with the new development? How are they different from normal tracers?"

"I think it's probably best that you don't know. If Angelus does capture you it's vital that you don't betray its power with a look or even a thought."

In the end Spike agreed and gave in gracefully, accepting the protection, secretly touched by the genuine concern everyone showed.

He returned to training his slayers with a renewed vigour and intensity, taking down Angelus would almost certainly fall to them. Spike became grim and increasingly focused. They were his slayers and they were going to survive. They, for their part, mirrored his intensity and set about their new training regime with bleak determination. They were his slayers and Angel was one of theirs, they would not let either of them down. During this time, they saw more of Spike in gameface than in his human aspect, as he allowed all his vampiric speed and strength to come into play and antagonised their slayer senses into overdrive. After the speed and adrenaline rush of their all-day training sessions, the real world felt slow and dull. They realised that they were becoming conditioned to a different rate of living.

"You know that saying; live fast, die young?" Chris queried, raising an eyebrow.

"He's killing us." Kirsty agreed.

"What does it matter? You only fit in a certain amount of living and you can either live it fast or drag it out to fill the years." Neesha replied.

"We're the humming birds of the human world." Kirsty laughed.

"We're becoming real slayers. He's turning us into the best." Chris answered. "The fist of the Council."

"Spike's fist."

They nodded and Neesha raised her glass of water in salute.

"Live fast, die young."

The others nodded their agreement.

Spike watched from the shadows, guilt gnawing at him. He felt affection for them, they were his, but he was prepared to use them all to bring back his sire. And they knew it. Accepted it. His fist. His sword. Forged in battle and sharpened by adversity. He hoped they would not break in the clash.

When he had finished training and patrolling, he would spend time with Angel's friends, people who understood and shared Spike's sadness. Sometimes he would stay with Wesley and Fred - of all people they knew. In the love that bound them, they had some comprehension of what Spike had lost and although they never spoke of it, Fred's sweetness and Wesley's strength, during this time made him appreciate them as never before. Together they would spend time away from duties and responsibilities. They would call Gunn, order Chinese and lounge around sharing wine and memories. Eventually talk would turn to old battles and new evils. It felt familiar and comfortable to the humans. Wesley reflected that the only thing that had changed was the vampire they shared it with.

And whilst they searched and fought and let duty consume them, they failed to notice the spies watching and observing the minutiae of their lives. Recording it all and forwarding reports to their master.

oooo

It had been a tedious and complicated journey to arrange but here they were. Angelus was blessed with a photographic memory. As he observed the bleak and featureless landscape of the Russian Steppes he ran through his memories and grinned with immense self-satisfaction. His confidence soared. The flat rock in front of him was distinctive. It was the place he remembered. His plan was going to work.If this didn't distract the witch then nothing would.

"Damn, I'm good!"

He turned to his minions.

"I'm opening a portal here. You're to guard it. Nothing is to come in or out of it except me. It'll take a couple of minutes and then I'll be back. If I'm more than five minutes, then Kyle, you jump through and come andfind me. You understand?"

The two minions nodded.

"Bring the human forward."

They pulled forward a man heavily wrapped in warm clothes. His eyes appeared blank and hopeless.

"Remove his coat."

The man didn't try to struggle. His body showed fang marks on his neck and wrists. He had been their sole source of sustenance for the last two days. He turned to them expecting the feeding frenzy of previous days. Tears appeared in his eyes.

"Pozhaluista…please"

"Don't beg. I hate it when they beg."

"Ya ne ponimayu."

"You don't need to understand, old man."

Without further warning Angelus surged forward and ripped at the man's throat, a meagre flow of blood drained out onto the rock below. He took a heavy disc from his pocket and dipped it into the gaping hole in the man's neck, covering it in the last drops of blood draining from the man. It was the disc Angel had been given to move through to the demon dimension. He needed to realign it to a different world and so sent the bloodied disc spinning to the blood anointed stone.

"Chi'lustra."

He pronounced it carefully. His glee was evident as the portal flashed to life before him.

"Get this wrong and I'll teach you what lies beyond agony."

The two vampires nodded and held themselves poised for whatever came next. Angelus leapt through the mystical gateway and a blast of icy air hit them. They held their ground and waited for their master.

oooo

Spike put a hand to head, he could feel the emptiness, the sudden void before his senses were filled with sights and sounds and tastes of the vision. He groaned in pain as images were hardwired directly into his brain. He became momentarily lost to the world and immersed in a new one. A world where the cold froze him to his very core…

_Snow falling, wind howling, ice creaking, falls frozen. A man sitting, frozen eyes, frosted lips, as though all of winter is drawn towards him, is embodied in him. The falling snow, the creaking ice, the wind all whisper the same refrain, echoing the words barely breathed passed the man's own lips, haunting the dreams of unwary travellers. And those that stumbled free from the frozen land would whisper to those who would hear, "Please set me free..."_

_A stranger appeared in the heart of the land of snow and ice and saw the man and heard his words and laid cold hand upon frozen brow. _

_"I will set you free, old man." _

_Thus the pledge was spoken. The traveller wiped his knife and left. The man remained. Warm blood flowed into pristine snow, red streamlets oozed, cutting furrows through the ice and then that too froze. The sky threw down hail, the cold bit and icicles fell like knives in the screaming wind._

_The last breath, the last beat and a frozen body in the frozen wastes. _

_The stranger strides through icy winds, bleak blizzards. His footsteps crunch, the earth cracks beneath his feet. Winter spreads out around him, black and desolate, as cold as death. The heartbeat gone forever from this land. Flowering trees brittle with hoary frost. A rabbit caught forever, wide eyes staring, ready to flee, a girl in summer dress, arm thrown up, countenance reveals a look of eternal surprise. Hearts stopped and bodies frozen, all trapped within this rimy web. This beautiful, crystalline world. No life, no breath to animate this frigid land. No life. Except dark stranger. Looks around and sees it all, lips draw back and teeth glint white, glacial laughter echoes, branches crack at the sound, shattering the eerie silence. Haunting laughter, echoing in every corner and the fragile world is cracking, crystal splintering, a crescendo of icy laughter crashing into it, smashing it. The world is glass and it is fragmenting, snapping and tinkling, tumbling, dissolving and gone. _

_The icy breath of laughter hangs over the void._

…Spike awoke clutching his throat and gasping for air he no longer needed, wide-eyed he turned to the others in horror and breathed the words that fell like a pebble into emptiness.

"Angelus." Spike whispered.

"You saw him?" Wesley asked.

Spike nodded.

"What happened?"

"He destroyed a world."

"Destroyed… this world?"

"No, but close to this one, too close."

"What did he do? Tell us what happened, Spike."

Spike nodded and took a breath to compose himself.

"There was disease in the world. Not physical you understand?"

"Well, not really, but carry on."

"A world eater that moved from dimension to dimension, devouring a world before moving on to the next. There was a man, he was powerful and he had sat alone for the last five hundred years, holding back the cold, protecting his world. He was tired beyond the meaning of the word but still he persevered. I saw Angelus appear before him and slit his throat."

Spike swallowed convulsively.

"What happened next?"

"The world was drained of power. It froze and then fragmented into a million lifeless shards. It took minutes."

"It disappeared? A whole world? Are you sure?" Wesley could hardly comprehend the magnitude of such an event.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I watched it happen."

"Right, we have to stop it. Did you get a timeframe?"

"It's already happened. Angelus left the portal open and the dying man reached through it and found me. He shoved it all into my head just as he was seeing it. He told me it's close. Close to where we are. Only a few dimensions to go and then us. He said it was coming for us."

Wesley felt the hairs on his arms stand on end as a chill swept through him. He took a deep, calming breath.

"So let me get this straight. There is a disease that can travel between worlds and now, because of Angelus, it is making its way inexhaustibly to our dimension?"

"That's about the size of it."

"My God! But this is dreadful. How long do we have?"

"It took weeks before he realised what was happening on his world and he managed to get to it in the nick of time. He told me the signs - temperatures drop, the weather changes and the warmth of the sun diminishes. He called it a parasite."

"So this sorceror dude, thinks we have what? About twelve weeks? We have about twelve weeks before it strikes our world?"

Gunn rubbed his arms and looked around, as though he could already see and feel the encroaching cold.

"Perhaps a little more…"

"Did the man give you any clue as to how he held it back?"Wesley's mind had absorbed the threat and was already seeking the solution.

"He wasn't exactly coherent. He was mourning his world. That he couldn't save it. He kept saying that he was only a spell-caster, not a spell-maker."

"What does that mean?" Gunn asked.

"All spells were created by someone or something. People with an affinity for magic can use these spells themselves. They are spell-casters. Spell-makers are considerably rarer, they create spells. There haven't been any new spells for generations."

"That ain't right." Spike replied with a puzzled frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Red, I mean, Willow, was always making new spells. The one that empowered the slayers…"

"That had been done before."

"But she changed it to include every potential. Doesn't that make it a new spell? She was always pulling apart spells and joining them together, twisting them into what she needed."

"That is so incredibly dangerous, was she never taught…"

"No she never was. That's the point though, she was never taught about danger. She's used to moving pieces of computer code around and she thought that spells were the same."

"But they aren't." Wesley protested.

"What's the difference?" Fred asked curiously.

"Spells involve asking favours from very powerful entities. Her cavalier approach could have been incredibly dangerous."

"Well they must like audacity and an enquiring mind because they love her." Spike said. "She couldn't get the Latin right once and in the end swore, said that she knew the goddess understood what she wanted and to just do it. She's a little spitfire sometimes. Dunno if I'd care to cross her."

Wesley was stunned.

"I see what you mean about audacity. And yet she lived through it."

"Uh huh. Not only that. They did her bidding and the spell worked." Spike finished.

"We need to get Willow working on this immediately." He noticed that Spike looked troubled. "What is it?"

"You get that this is probably why Angelus destroyed the world? Red is the only one to ever successfully force the soul back into him, so the evil bastard is using the death of that world to draw her away."

"Yes, I see. A diversion. But frankly, I don't know what else we can do. The end of the world is currently more important than getting Angel back. You know he'd say the same thing if he were here. Still, we're not going to stop searching for him."

oooo

Angelus returned in triumph. He had never seen the fall of a world before. It had been exhilarating! The feel of everything falling apart and disintegrating, the power he'd felt as he'd walked through the destruction. Jeez what a buzz. Of course, they would eventually discover this new threat and that would be the witch safely out of the game for a while.

He was intrigued to find an email from Spike waiting for him. All it said was; _Angelus._

Angelus nodded in satisfaction and then typed up his reply.

_You took your time. This is the crack Council / AI team? I'm embarrassed for you. And hey, guess sweet, tasty Fred fixed your computer following your little temper tantrum. Ah William. So destructive, I hate to see you tamed, you should be untrammelled, a force of nature._

That would send them panicked and wild-eyed, suspecting that even within their inner sanctum he had spies. They forgot he had a brain and knew Spike well, his reactions were easy to predict, especially in the light of the silence that followed his provocative emails.

_I don't like being played with, mate._

Angelus gave a laugh.

_Shame. I enjoy playing with you so much… mate._

He enjoyed the hunt almost as much as catching the prey. He knew Spike wouldn't be able to resist answering the challenging message. He was right, as usual.

_Enjoy your game whilst you can, you can't hide forever and then before you can say 'ensouled'… but I guess you know the rest._

He quickly typed a new message, he loved sparring with Spike, even if only verbally.

_Your bluster is boring me, Childe._

He pressed send.

_Not trying to keep you amused. You destroyed a world and angered some powerful people. You can't win, Angelus. I want my sire back and I will. Whatever it takes._

It irritated him when Spike denied their relationship. And how the hell did they know about the dead world already? He reflected that he might have finally found some worthy opponents.

_Like all things, worlds are born and then they die. So I cut short it's existence by a few months /years/ aeons. What's the difference? I mean really? Be honest. As for your sire, you were sired by a demon, by blood and fang, not by a human or by a soul. Guess that makes me your Sire, so you want me? Come and get me. And finally, I always win._

He waited for the click of a new message and was not disappointed.

_You always win? Yeah, right! The gypsies beat you, Willow defeated you and Buffy sent you to hell. See a pattern emerging here, Sire? And technically maybe you're my Sire… but we both know my eternity could never be you._

Enough of this. Time to introduce the boy to some realities.

_Your eternity? What makes you think you have one? Anyway, you make Angel too happy, so either way he can't stay with you. I'm the only Sire you'll ever have._

Send.

_I refuse to believe that. Somehow we'll find a way._

This was beginning to irritate him.

_Yawn. _

Send

_I will get Angel back._

Foolish boy.

_Zzzzzzzz_

Send. Log out.

That had whetted his appetite. No one understood his games quite like Spike and he was more determined than ever to move on to the next part of his plan. He studied the reports from his spies. At first it seemed a hopeless task trying to find any sort of pattern in their movements. Their days and nights seemed to be chaotic and unpredictable. He then noted that Spike would often spend time with Wesley and Fred and, providing nothing else intervened, these visits had a certain regularity. This was exactly what he was looking for. He prepared for a trip back to Los Angeles, ensuring that his protective tattoos were in place. Lindsey had been good for something, these tattoos actually worked.

The bond he'd had with Spike had dissipated and his childe would have no warning, it had been too long since their last blood sharing. He took with him the two minions who weren't complete idiots.

Angelus composed a note; the letters were scratchy and rushed, but overall he felt it was a satisfactory imitation of Spike's hand. He despatched it immediately.

Wesley, expecting the arrival of Spike, instead received the message:

_"Sorry, Mate. Can't make it this time. Cheers Spike."_

Although presenting himself as an oddity in auto-addicted L.A., Spike often walked. He enjoyed it. Naturally nocturnal, the night held precious little fear for him. Daylight leeched him, but this was his element. Every scent carried clearly on the warm breeze that stirred the trash in the backstreets. His body stiffened, his footsteps stuttered and he whipped around.

"You may as well show yourself. I can frigging smell you."

"Spike? It's me."

Spike buried all signs of apprehension, never show the bastard weakness.

"What do you want, Angelus?"

"Would I be here if I were still him? It's me, childe. I've been re-souled."

"Angel?" Spike felt his heart lurch in hope.

"I'm sorry, I returned to you as quickly as possible. Jeez, it is so good to see you again!"

Spike moved closer, scenting the air and then his face screwed up with a bitter laugh.

"You really thought you could fool me?"

Angelus grinned. "No, I didn't."

Spike had been so intent on his sire he'd gotten careless. Too late he turned, responding to a noise and realising that his sire had merely been distracting him whilst the jaws of trap snapped shut.

As Spike brought a hand to the stinging dart, Angelus patted him on the shoulder and chuckled good-naturedly.

"Do you remember that tranquillizer gun you helped Fred to develop?"

Before his horror could even register on his face Spike had collapsed to the ground.


	3. Pain

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

_**Warning:**_Torture scene.

**_Summary: _**Angelus has Spike, whilst the others are distracted by the World Eater.

**

* * *

****Chapter 3**

**Pain**

"I finally managed to contact Willow." Wesley said. "Which reminds me, we really need to develop a better system of communication."

"Why? Where was she?"

"Physically? Brazil. Spiritually? I really haven't got a clue."

"The girl went surfing the astral plane again? Definitely need some sort of emergency messaging system."

"I'm sure there's away. We'll talk it over when she arrives." Fred replied.

There was a noise at the door and Wesley got up.

"A note from Spike. He can't make it tonight." He called through.

"That's too bad. The vamp needs some down time. Wonder what's come up."

Gunn returned a couple of bottles of wine to the rack - Spike's quota for the evening wouldn't be needed.

"Uh, you guys? Don't y'all feel it's a bit weird? Spike sending us a note, I mean."

"Not at all. He's not as irresponsible as Angel always used to claim. It's quite in character that he would let us know, especially considering our current situation of high alert."

"A note though? Don't either of you think that it's a bit old-fashioned?"

"Vampires can be amazingly outdated. Angel couldn't even…"

"Wes, the girl's right, he's nothing like Angel."

Wesley looked at them thoughtfully.

"He's not, is he? You know, he slipped into Angel's place so easily that I sometimes forget. I mean, of course I realise he's Spike, the outrageous sense of humour and his neon hair, but his role… I guess I've made him into a substitute Angel. Do you think he realised?"

No one answered. How could he not have noticed?

"Never mind that," Fred's voice held a touch of uncharacteristic impatience, "my point is that Spike can use a cell phone and email, why would he send a note?"

"You're right, he wouldn't."

Fred began twisting her hands together as she followed through to a logical conclusion.

"But Angelus would. As you were saying, it's the sort of thing we expect from Angel. He still has one foot planted in the 18th century."

"Whereas Spike is at home in this century, he belongs in the modern world."

"He would call, text, email - it wouldn't even enter his head to send someone here with a note."

"Hell and damnation! The tracking device. We have to find out where he is."

oooo

Angelus left his minions to continue their surveillance and dumped the unconscious vampire into the front seat of the car. His priority was to get out of the immediate area. There were too many prying eyes on the streets of L.A., so he drove north out of the city and then turned off the freeway into a quiet truck stop, pulling into a dark corner of the parking lot. There he could finally examine his childe. He savoured the words: his childe. His by blood and his by possession, the spoils of war, he grinned at the thought of Spike's explosive reaction to this claiming.

They had learnt a lot at Wolfram and Hart, including tracking and surveillance techniques. He was sure these skills would have been put to good use and had come prepared. He ran an electronic wand across Spike's body and it buzzed almost immediately. A quick investigation discovered something in the hem of the leather duster. Predictable really. The coat was Spike's second skin, where else would it be? Sometimes it troubled him how stupid other people could be, but not very much and not for very long. He extracted it and put it on the dashboard, doing one more sweep with the wand but discovering no others.

It was an eight hour drive to San Francisco. However, six hours later he'd reached the outskirts and was heading towards the airport. Once there, he took the tracer and dropped it into a wooden box, carved with hieroglyphics. Angelus locked the box tight and pocketed it. He could have done it earlier but this would be so much more frustrating for them, having the signal suddenly vanish at San Francisco Airport. If they were following his journey, then let them make of that what they will. He left the airport and, whistling softly, he carried on north along the freeway, one hand gently entangled in Spike's hair.

The plan was well underway but the most difficult part still lay ahead. Breaking Spike to his will. He wasn't at all sure it was possible, but that had never put him off attempting things before.

oooo

Willow heard them out.

"I'm going to have to go there and see for myself. Have you managed to track it yet?"

"I believe Wesley and Fred have made some progress." Giles replied, nodding to them to continue.

"We've been working on it and believe we have the co-ordinates for the next dimension it will have struck."

Wesley looked and sounded tired. He took of his glasses and began polishing them. Willow regarded this action with affection; it was such a familiar, Giles-like mannerism.

"Is there any news of Angelus or Spike yet?" She asked.

"No. The tracer worked at first. They were heading north but then we suddenly lost the signal at San Francisco and were unable to follow them any further."

"San Francisco? Well that's good news. Isn't that where you found the first signs of him?" She asked.

"That's true. But the signal ended at the airport not within the city itself. My assumption is that Angelus finally had time to search Spike and found the tracer. Maybe they are in San Francisco but there again they could have got on a plane and gone anywhere in the world."

He didn't utter his other fear that maybe Spike had already been disposed of. It was unlikely given the way Angelus worked, but still a real possibility.

"So what did he do? Destroy the tracer."

"Nooo." Wesley said slowly and shared a look with Fred. "We'll know when and where it becomes non-operational."

Willow frowned. "Ok. From the glances and the extremely shifty expressions, and can I just advise neither of you to ever play poker, I take it there's something special about this tracer."

"Well, it's a bit of a gamble. We have a theory based on Angelus' previous M.O." Fred explained.

"He indulges in physical torture but his chief technique depends upon psychological methods. He wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity of using the tracking device against Spike. Some grand gesture as he destroyed it."

"Yes, we're sort of depending on it being used in this way. As soon as it's destroyed it activates the equivalent of a magical distress flare, guaranteed to momentarily punch through any shielding magicks. It will most likely occur in his lair and we'll be able to exactly pinpoint his location."

"So you're depending on Angelus to torture Spike with its loss? Does Spike know about this plan?"

"I thought it best if he didn't know." Wesley replied.

"It makes sense." Willow agreed. "Sort of a cruel thing to do to Spike though, letting him think there's no hope of rescue."

"The more natural Spike's reaction, the more chance we'll have of finding them."

"Don't get me wrong, I understand where you're coming from. It just seems a little…" She trailed off and shook her head.

Giles supported his fellow Englishman.

"Undoubtedly, it was the right thing to do."

Wesley felt uneasy having one of his more questionable decisions under the microscope. Fred noticed and reached out, stroking Wesley's arm comfortingly.

"Someone has to make the hard decisions and Wes is stronger than the rest of us."

"I'm sorry. I do understand." Willow apologised. "If I can help, let me know."

oooo

Angelus was the master of breaking people, his artistry knew no bounds. Yet his entire existence he had never succeeded in breaking this indomitable spirit.

"Ah, William, what am I to do with you?"

The eyelids fluttered opened. It was painful for Spike to see that beloved face with dark malignance shining from familiar eyes.

"What the hell do you want from me, Poof?"

"Politeness. Old world courtesy." Angelus suggested.

Spike snorted his disdain. Already the chains were biting cruelly into his wrists and he knew this was going to happen no matter what he said.

"Always defiant, always challenging. I blame myself, spoiling you with my affable nature and leniency."

"Chrissakes. Stake me now."

"Perhaps later…if you beg prettily enough."

"In your dreams."

"Constantly, William. Constantly." Angelus replied with his trademark giggle.

Spike eyed him warily.

"You don't have to do this. Just tell me what you want."

"I want you, back at my side, the way it used to be. I miss you, boy."

He reached out and cupped the sharp face in his hands, until Spike shook him off.

"Okay. Perhaps it does have to be this way, after all. It's never gonna be like that again, the things you do, the things we did, disgust me."

"Yes, your pesky soul. Yet it's what I want and what I'll have again."

He considered the implements at his disposal and chose a tool. It was called pain.

oooo

"How are the slayers doing without Spike?"

Giles looked slightly troubled.

"They carry on pretty much as normal, practicing during the day and hunting at night."

"Hunting?" Wesley immediately picked up on the word. "You mean patrolling?"

"Patrol has only ever been a euphemism for the hunt. Spike calls it hunting so they do as well. He honed them and now they're trying to keep their edge. The stronger and faster the demon they chase, the better."

"They're growing reckless?"

"No, they're too good for that. You'll have to watch them fight - I've never seen anything like it. If we don't find the vampires soon they'll take matters into their own hands."

"In what way?"

"Without wanting to sound melodramatic, I think they're ready to rip the world apart to find them."

"Sounded pretty melodramatic to me." Willow whispered in an aside to Fred.

"Maybe we should let them?" Gunn suggested.

Giles shuddered.

"We couldn't turn that sort of power loose, not without a firm hand on the reins. We are involving the slayers. We've sent out word across the world that they need to search the cities, question vampires before staking them and if they discover anything then they're to report back to us, but we know they have their own informal information network and it's Spike own cadre that are at the centre of it."

"That sounds sinister."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound that way. These girls are the same age and went through the bonding experience of battle. They made friends and now they keep in touch, so word gets around, ideas get discussed."

"Subsume them." Wesley replied. "Offer the leaders of Spike's group a place on the Council. That way you'll get to know the feelings at grass roots level and have an opportunity to discuss any ideas they might have."

"Absolutely." Willow agreed. "We really should have more female representation on the Council."

"You know, that just might be the answer."

"Anything that helps us find our vampires, has gotta be good. They can't remain hidden forever."

"But what will Angelus do whilst we search? That's the question."

Giles' observation silenced them all. How could the vampire top the destruction of a world? And would Spike survive it?

Wesley cleared his throat to subtly bring them back to Willow's reason for being there.

"Did you want to open a portal now?" Wesley asked.

"Okey dokey. Ummm. I'm sorry, but I'll need some extra juice…"

"Some slayers have volunteered. I'll gather them."

Willow nodded. She hated to use them in this way but needs must. Wesley went to call them.

"So how is Buffy?" Giles finally asked the question that had been playing on his mind.

Willow was quiet for a second.

"Giles, if I have to stay away for a while in one of these other dimensions, go to her. She's going to need someone."

"Willow? What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong. It's just that…oh goddess! You remember that we found Spike when he became human? Buffy decided she wanted to do something for him. Give him a permanent connection to this world, even after we're long gone. I agreed to help her with certain aspects of it. The repercussions are going to hit us pretty soon."

Giles put a hand to his temples.

"What have you done, Willow?"

"Nothing bad or icky. Just trust me and promise you'll go to her."

Giles could do nothing but agree. "I promise."

"Thank you." She gave him an affectionate hug.

Wesley returned with the grim-faced slayers. The few that were to give Willow her strength stepped forward.

"I'm sorry about this. You'd better sit down as it will probably make you feel a bit weak and skewy."

They did asWillow suggested. The sooner they got the end of the world crap out of the way the sooner they could concentrate on finding Spike and Angel.

"Via temporis, iam clamo ad te, via spatii te jubeo aperire. Aperi!" Willow commanded and with the last word pulled at the slayer strength available to her. The glowing portal sprang up in front of them andshe turned to Wesley.

"All you have to do is maintain it. Give me five minutes and then throw back whatever I'm exchanged for."

Wesley nodded.

"Good luck."

Willow took a breath and walked through the portal.

She entered into the new dimension, stepping into the wastelands in the heart of the frozen north. Here the effect of the disease was already discernable to her eyes. She could see it roiling through the skies like a spider web of power, preparing to consume the life of the world and everything on it.

oooo

Angelus worked diligently, with a craftsman's skill, playfully skimming a blade over skin that crawled to the teasing touch, muscles twitching in expectation. Finally, searing pain that was almost welcome, the agony a more tangible enemy than the dull, thudding fear of anticipation.

"Will you not scream for me, childe? I love to work to music."

Spike made no sound and Angelus shrugged and returned to his labour with the precision and concentration of a surgeon rather than a butcher.

"This is great, isn't it? You and I, we always have such fun together. I've always loved your company, Will." He began to hum a lilting Irish melody. Spike allowed his head to droop wearily.

Angelus stepped back, watching with interest the delicate bloom of blood, how it welled and spread. He traced the flow of blood with tongue and fang, stopping as his face nestled onto warmth that emanated from newly burnt flesh. It was all pleasure. He brought in his trusted minions and allowed them to watch.

"May I try?" Kyle asked, stepping forward and putting his hand to the tortured flesh.

Angelus growled in fury, reached for the disrespectable little lackey and in one violent movement twisted his head off.

"No." He told the drifting ash of Kyle. "Nobody touches him but me."

Elle eyed the falling ashes with contempt and then looked back at Spike.

"Master? May I ask who he is?"

"This is my childe. Your master. To lay hands on him is to lay hands on me."

"He too is my master? Must I do as this… thing tells me?" She asked scathingly.

"The time will come when he will tear you to pieces himself if you don't."

"Is he so powerful?" She eyed the body doubtfully.

"You have no idea."

"Why do you hurt him?"

"Because I enjoy it. And he was disobedient and refused to learn his lessons."

"He's pretty."

Angelus turned so quickly she didn't see the movement. He was suddenly in front of her.

"He's mine."

Those words were spoken softly and held a world of insanity behind them, probably hers if she ever came between him and his childe. She nodded and vowed never to come near the other vampire again.

The days wore on. Withdrawing only to hunt and to sleep, giving time for Spike to regain consciousness and contemplate tortures to come.

At first, Spike took refuge in some part of his body that wasn't in agony. When his fingers snapped he moved his mind to his toes and contemplated his toes. They were whole and held no pain. When holy water trickled down his feet and the skin of his toes bubbled and cooked, he became his eyes. When needles stabbed his eyes and blood ran like tears down his face, then he had nowhere left to hide. He turned in on himself.

The self took refuge in a corner of his mind, peanut size it held the kernel of his sanity and whilst the body was wracked, it held itself aloof within its shell and in amazement wondered; who is it who bleeds, who cries, who screams? It was the part that could plan, whilst his body arched and howled. It was the part that could remember happier times as visions passed before it; a face, a word, a breath. It was the part that neither Glory, or Buffy, or Angelus could ever break. It was his essence, his balance, his centre of being.

Angelus cut and he beat until the basement floor was rusty with blood and Spike's body was a sunken and scarred facsimile of the perfection it had been.

"Are you still with me, William?" Angelus enquired, dragging the blonde head up and staring into bloodied, ferocious eyes that were fairly snapping with fury.

"Aye. You're still there aren't you? Still got nothing to say to me?"

Angelus shook his head in mock disappointment.

This body hanging from the wall became his obsession .He bit, he drained and he starved, until his childe hung like a painted canvas. An old master in a gallery, drawing the eye but oblivious to the attention. Removed from reality, existing in a world of his own.

Perfection was in the detail.

Silken skin that clothed a whip-lean body. Arms spread either side, with neither flesh nor fat but sinew and muscle, corded and stretched, as his head drooped. His body a canvas coloured with the rich hues of pain; dripping red that dried to the colour of rust, roses of blue, sunburst yellow and pools of violet, spread against the white of his skin. Decorated with bites and scars flawlessly placed.

"Poor, Spikey. I hated to do this too you…except, you know, I didn't. What can I say? I love my work. But I'm getting bored. Shall we cry truce? Here, let me release you."

He unlocked cruel manacles and the tortured body dropped to the floor. Angelus crouched next to him, cradling his head.

"I'm not without pity. Feed, childe. Drink deeply and heal. Come back to me, little one."

Spike's demon emerged as hot, pulsing blood roused his senses. The scent was deep and rich. He began salivating. The pulse was strong, reverberating around the room and echoing within his head. Starved and injured, his demon called for blood, drawn towards seductive human warmth. It called to him, sang to his demon rendering him almost senseless with desire.

His jaw dropped open and without thought or conscious volition his fangs began to press against delicate skin, he opened his eyes and found himself looking into the blue eyes of a newborn babe. He cried aloud and turned his face away, gritting his teeth, locking his jaws shut to prevent his demon from betraying him and sinking teeth into tender, tempting flesh.

"It's already dead, Spike. Give its death meaning. Let its life nourish you, flood your mouth and scald your tongue with vitality." Angelus cajoled. "If you won't taste it, then I'll break its neck and toss the carcass aside."

The souled vampire tried to close his ears to distressed cries and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but he could not block out the sounds and a pitiless crack and the dead silence that followed announced another innocent and a lifetime's potential had passed away.

"Such a waste." Angelus murmured sadly, dropping the lifeless body at the feet of the damaged vampire.

"So what next?" Spike spat. "You've tried pain. I suppose despair or helplessness or some such rot. What's next on the list?"

"You should know by now, I've never been one to paint by numbers, it limits imagination."

Spike just grunted and hoped he could hang in for the next part of the ride.

oooo

It had been big and angry. The slayers had grabbed it and Giles had stunned it with his tazer.

"That's the five minutes up. Throw it back, please."

The slayers picked it up and tossed it through the portal. As it disappeared Willow plunged towards them. One of the slayers stepped forward and halted her fall. Willow gazed at the good looking slayer who had caught her and gave her an embarrassed smiled.

"Uh…thanks."

"Was it the right place?"

Willow was shivering and her teeth chattering. The tip of her nose and her lips were blue.

"Oh yes. Has anyone got a blanket? It is freezing there. We're talking arctic."

"Do you know what's happening there?"

"I think so. I'd have to see the complete cycle to truly understand it. At the moment, it's still powerful from its last feeding. It seems to have two aspects, one at each pole. Beginning in the north and south, an ever increasing web of power is being spun out across the world. I think that the whole thing goes kablooey when the two sides meet at the equator. This is what triggers the feeding fest. In minutes it drains the world, opens a portal and it, or possibly its children, move on to a new world.

"You're suggesting it uses the power to replicate itself?"

"Exactly. I suppose the meeting at the equator could almost be their equivalent of mating. Anyway, they move on to the next world, leaving behind the destruction that happened in Chi'lustra. Without the life force to give it heat and hold it together, the world crumbles away. The man that Angelus killed kept it at bay by protecting the life force, preventing it from feeding. He was holding it in abeyance but not defeating it. The man was right, it's a parasite. It needs these worlds to continue. Anyway, once he was dead it completed its cycle and began again in this new dimension."

"Can you do anything to stop it?"

"Maybe, but I need to study it for a while."

"You have to go back there?" Giles asked.

Willow nodded.

"I have some ideas but there are some Beings I need to have a chat with."

"Beings?" Wesley asked.

"Uh huh. You'd be amazed how cranky some gods get when something destroys their world."

She looked particularly ingenuous as they gazed at her in stunned silence.

"Is it just me or does this girl give anyone else the cold shivers?" Gunn asked.

"Talking of cold, have I mentioned that it's freezing there? So find me a few nice, how to keep warm and cosy spells, please?" She begged.

Giles gave her a concerned smile. "We'll see what we can do."

"Uh, Willow? Will you be away long. I mean it's just that we need to be able to contact you when you're not in this dimension, you know, in case of emergencies. I've had one or two thoughts if you'd like to…" Fred offered tentatively.

Willow smiled and the two girls walked away, their heads close as they discussed possible solutions.

"They get on well together. I suppose it's because their minds work at the same level." Gunn said.

Wesley looked after them as they chatted excitedly about the new ideas.

Gunn opened his eyes wide.

"Whoa! You must be messing with me. You're jealous!"

"Don't be ridiculous." Wesley replied crossly, but his eyes lingered on them.

"Fred and Willow? Interesting thought, but no worries dude," Gunn patted his arm kindly, "the witch isn't Fred's type… she's not you."

oooo

Angelus tumbled down the dark cellar, the reek of alcohol announcing his presence even before the crash and clatter of his ungainly entrance. He lay where he'd fallen slumped against the wall.

Spike opened a swollen eye, his body tense and wary. Angelus was always unpredictable but Angelus rolling drunk was anyone's guess.

"I'm drunk ma boy."

He seemed to be attempting to focus, his forehead wrinkling with the effort.

"By gods, boy, look at the state of yer!" He shook his head sadly, "Why d'yer keep doing this to yerself?"

Spike was almost goaded into speech but he wouldn't give the tosser the satisfaction.

"Dinna look at me like that, boy. I know what yer thinkin' – that it was meself who caused all that. But I ask yer, what choice did yer leave me eh? Yer always do it to yerself, makin' sure I've no choice in it."

Now the blonde vampire was beginning to feel like one of those sorry bints all it needed was…

"I only do it because I care, I love yer, Childe."

Now that was too much, there was no way he could hold his tongue. He hated that Angelus still knew how to pull his strings.

"You? Love?" His voice sounded creaky and weak to his ears and he spat out a mouthful of blood as he cleared his throat. "You wouldn't know how. Even the giant smurf said you had no human feeling in you."

"Nah, nah. What makes yer think that love is a human feeling? Can't a snake love his family?"

"Dunno about snakes but you can't. Was it love that kept me chained in that wheelchair?"

"Ah, Will, so clever but so mistaken. What would yer have done once me healin' blood made yer healthy and whole?" He didn't wait for answers. "You'd have challenged me, you'd have tried to take Dru and when you failed and all was lost, yer would have left us. Don't try to deny it. Anyway, yer know I wasn't quite me old self. All those years spent incarcerated within sheaves of blinding light, never allowed to partake of the world. It enraged me. I needed to hurt everything he loved; I made his beloved my obsession."

"Right and this time you're a poster child for sanity." Spike sneered.

"This time I'm more meself and 'tis all thanks to you me boy. My sweet boy."

It looked like maudlin drunken tears were quivering on the end of his eyelashes and his voice thickened with emotion.

"You made the soul accept me. We nested and hunted and played with the tame slayers. A small amount of freedom and a taste of life. After captivity it was like bein' given the world. Yer gave me the world, boy. And now I'm here what am I to do with it?"

He produced some fulsome tears and allowed them to roll unhindered down his cheek. Spike was horrified. It was truly unnerving to see tears on those beautiful, impenetrable features.

They stared at each other in silence.

oooo

There was nothing they could do until Willow came back. They had no idea how long she would be. It entered their heads that the previous person to take on the world eater had spent five hundred years working against it. And lost.

Instead their thoughts turned again to Spike and Angelus.

"I may have something."

"Go girl! What you got?"

"A newspaper report. Two weeks ago, pranksters in a Halloween mask attacked a Seattle woman. She said that they had false fangs and terrifying masks. They ripped off her scarf and pretended they were about to bite her throat. She still has the marks where these 'fangs' penetrated the skin but then the leader dropped her to the ground and ran away. Police said it was a very dangerous prank and they took a serious view of the matter."

"Maybe. It seems a bit tentative though?"

"There's a description of the main assailant. Powerful build, dark hair and wearing a leather coat."

"Still…"

"And… look at this. It was in the same paper just a few days earlier."

"Two appeals for missing persons to come forward."

"So I checked the missing persons statistics for the year and in the last month it's more than tripled!"

Wesley came across and together with Gunn examined Fred's results.

"This is excellent. Well done, Fred!"

"So how are we going to play this?" Gunn asked. "We can't just send the slayers in and comb the city it would only make him run again."

"I'm not sure. Giles will be here soon, we'll bring the Council in on this and see what we can come up with between us."

They brought out a map of Seattle and began to plot where bodies had been found.

"This is no use; Angelus is too clever to leave clusters of bodies or to make his lair the central point of the finds. He knows how we work."

When Giles arrived they briefly brought him up to speed on the latest developments.

"The Council doesn't have any representatives in Seattle and it's not an area that I'm familiar with." Giles said, clearly agitated.

"Maybe its time to use your slayers?"

"God knows they need something practical to do. They're reaching boiling point."

"The thing is they need to be discreet, they can't go in all guns blazing. If Angelus skips town we'll have to begin our search all over again."

"Yes, quite. Actually, I believe one of the L.A. slayers originates from Seattle. In fact, if I remember correctly, she has a brother who is member of the police force there."

"Having someone there who knows the city would be immensely helpful and of course the brother might save us rehashing information they've already processed. Is she reliable?"

"She's one of the first slayers that Spike met in L.A. and was in the first group that he began to train. She's also trained against Angelus himself. She and her partner could fly to Seattle, do some investigating and then report back."

"Partner?" Gunn asked.

"Spike taught them to work and fight in pairs. It's been extremely successful."

"Right. So that's the plan then?"

They all nodded their agreement.

oooo

Angelus still lay in the place he'd fallen and was staring up at Spike.

"It's not my world anymore."

Tears had left glistening tracks upon his cheeks.

"We used to walk this world like ancient gods. Now my sire is gone forever. She was glorious, was she not? Self centred and perfect - who could ever replace her? My insane daughter is wandering the world, lost and alone. And you, my childe yet not my childe, with that spark ashimmerin inside you, peeking out in yer eyes. I dinna blame yer. Always wantin' to be like yer sire, I had a soul so you went chasin' hell for leather after one. Ah William, 'tis a pathetic tale to tell and I am distraught. It nigh breaks the heart of this old demon."

And indeed, he did seem a sad sight in his rumpled clothes and with his dishevelled hair, he appeared almost piteous. Maybe something small stirred inside Spike's heart, for despite his determination not to be drawn into conversation he now wished he could think of some words of comfort. Then he felt anger at himself, for he was still bound to a wall, chains tearing on his ligaments, pain stinging every part of his tortured body. Starving, drained and now forced to listen to the maudlin whiskey-induced ramblings of his tormentor.

"You're breaking my heart. Sod off, Angelus, and stop playing these games with me, I'm tired of them. I'm too old and I know you too well."

"You know me not at all! Nobody understands me."

"So you take up the cry of every drunk in the land. You're right, you are pathetic."

"Why must you hate me? Wasn't it myself who stood with yer, shoulder-to-shoulder for nigh on twenty years? Was it me who abandoned yer? Left yer to face the world alone? There was so much more to teach yer and I would never have abandoned my dearest childe. Yer were too young to face the world alone and it mystifies my mind how you survived those long years."

"I fought." Spike croaked. "Every night I fought. And I grew strong."

Angelus was moved to push himself shakily to his feet.

"Ah, my poor childe. I would have been with yer still if I could."

"But you couldn't and everything's changed."

"Everything, except for one thing. I would never willingly abandon you. Even now."

"Angel would never have willingly abandoned me either." Spike replied softly.

"And what do you know, Spike?" Spitting his name on whiskey clouded breath.

But Spike had spent all his energy and once more returned to blessed unconsciousness, the stench of alcohol mixing unpleasantly with that of cold blood and decay, which followed him even into his dreams.

His drunkenness miraculously cured, Angelus admitted temporary defeat and reconsidered the problem.

8


	4. Seduction and Doubt

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**M/M

**_Summary: _**Giles discovers Buffy's secret. Angelus continues in his attempt to bring Spike to his side, but the tools he uses appear to be double edgedand cut both ways.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Seduction and Doubt**

It had been worth a try but he remembered that it had always been thus. Pain brought forth only venomous defiance. He smiled to himself, as much as such defiance frustrated him, he was also enormously proud of his childe's strength. Still, it was time to move on and find a new method, Angelus was never one to stick to lost causes.

He cast his mind back to Spike's passionate kiss and his reaction to drunken words of love, the barely hidden need of a new fledgling. With this in mind he carefully removed a new tool from his artist's collection. One that he looked forward to immensely. It was called seduction

He released his childe from the chains that bound him and lowered the unconscious form into a bathtub, steaming with water. With immeasurable gentleness his large hands bathed and cleansed. He stroked a sponge over pale skin and cascaded the healing warmth of the water through his hair. The care continued as broken bones were set and bandages applied to wounds.

He slashed his own breast, watching blood form swollen droplets that welled and trickled an enticing trail down his chest, the scent of it automatically roused Spike. He drew his weakened, starving childe to the cut and waited for that delicious tug as blood returned to blood, the sluggish pull as he felt again the familial bond. Instead he let out a sigh as Spike refused the nourishment and turned his face away. But Angelus could not allow this refusal.

"William, childe. You must feed." He planted a soft kiss on his brow. "No more pain, Will. Come back to me. Feed."

He dipped his finger into the red trail and smeared it over lips that denied him. Spike could not resist, his catlike tongue darted out and cleansed the blood away. It was with satisfaction he watched those blue eyes flicker, pleading for more. Again Angelus pulled him to his chest and cradled his close, this time Spike did not turn away. He put his mouth to the cut and lethal fangs slashed deeper.

Angelus fed the famished vampire the sustenance he needed to heal, offering encouragement with gentle purrs and growls of approval.

Spike spent days sleeping in a soft bed, Sire's blood knitting his body back to perfection. When he stirred, sleep-filled eyes found that dark shape looming in the twilight of the room.

Angelus considered the figure stretched before him, the mixture of innocence and knowing colliding in rainy-day eyes. How could Darla have resisted such a cocktail, when his own stolen body had returned to her with soulful eyes, heartbreaking loneliness and delicious confusion? It was beautiful. But she was never one to explore such mysteries.

The demon had no patience for weakness or injury but Spike's condition intrigued him, a demon coexisting with that spark of divinity. He remembered hiding from that light when the usurping soul had conquered his preternatural body. He sensed that Spike's demon fared better, it seemed to have struck an odd compact with the soul, the holy and the profane had founded an uneasy truce that he had never managed.

Angelus felt a strange sort of pride in his childe. A vampire who fought for his soul! It made him laugh aloud. Only his childe would imagine such a thing, would attempt such a thing. Only his childe would succeed. He wanted to drag him from his sleep and take him to the dangerous parts of the city, let other demons sense the soul and offer mockery and condemnation, even the soul would allow defensive combat against monsters. His demon would be released and Angelus and William would hunt again, wreaking carnage and mayhem on laughing, contemptuous demons. The world would learn to shake in terror when Angelus and his ensouled childe roamed the night. Then afterwards to bring him back to their rooms and call forth that innocence and purity; test it, tease it, protect it - it was mouth-watering. He needed to touch, he wearied of hurt and torture and instead caressed where he had earlier ripped.

Spike had been without his beloved Angel for many months. Lying in the soft bed he'd been dreaming he was home and safe with Angel. In the drowsiness of awakening, the taste of powerful blood and the feel of cool skin on his he whispered, "I've missed you, Sire."

As Angelus heard these words he was perturbed to realise that the pain he'd inflicted hadn't been about torture. It had been a reason to touch his recalcitrant childe in a manner they could both accept. It had been a declaration and a plea. He remembered how, with each blow, each cut, each flick of the whip he had whispered the command.

"Stay."

After each bite he would lick the wound and whisper it into the skin, letting the blood carry the message through the body.

The pain and the seduction fused together to create a new picture, one that he'd begun one hundred and twenty years ago. One that Darla had seen emerging and forbade him from finishing. It was a picture of lust and obsession, but not for her. He could see it painted on Spike's face and knew it was reflected on his own. Rainy-day eyes were clearing to azure and Angelus wanted to breathe in that brightness and warmth, for those blue-sky eyes and bright sunshine hair were all he would ever have of the daytime world. All he would ever need.

He opened a vein again, this time not to heal but rather to feel those strong teeth piercing his skin and to hear those suckling, snuffling sounds as his childe attempted to find a place for himself somewhere under his skin, without realising that he had been under Angelus' skin since their first meeting, a bond created through flesh that smouldered under the dying rays of the sun, flesh that had smouldered ever since. He could feel the body beneath him grow hard with the suffusion of blood, making the feeding more frantic.

As much as Angel loved Spike, there was something he, Angelus, could do that his souled self had always feared, constrained by the curse and potential happiness. Angelus stopped the feeding and demanded that his childe retract his fangs before he had reached satisfaction and spilt useless seed.

He began his seduction, unbuttoning his shirt and watching the reaction of his childe as each button revealed more flesh, until his broad chest was exposed and he slipped the silky cloth from his shoulders. He flung it on to a chair and each movement caused the muscles in his powerful arms to flex, the light catching and highlighting their strength. Spike watched wide-eyed. It felt unreal, a private fantasy bursting to life.

Angelus once again settled above that pale, cool body, feeling it responding to him, leaning forward to kiss away blood from stained lips. In his dreamlike state Spike found nothing strange in these kisses. Angel would occasionally take blood from his mouth, playful and loving. In drowsy confusion he allowed the dream to unfold as the kisses changed from playful, to hard and demanding. Opening his mouth, tasting and searching, Spike lost himself to the sensation.

Angelus broke away, wondering who was seducing who.

"Hell's teeth childe! How could I have resisted this for so long?"

He returned to his childe with loving touches, Spike slowly realised that this was Angelus. The tenderness and warmth was all Angelus. He felt as though he was hanging on to his sanity by a thread. He murmured unintelligible meaningless words.

Angelus drew back slightly, his breath whispering over Spike's skin.

"You could have this. Every day this could be yours. Do you want it?"

"Christ, yes…" How could he refuse his sire? He'd wanted it for so long.

"See how easy it can be?" Angelus said with a smirk. "It's all yours, through an eternity of lifetimes."

"Is this what you want?" Spike asked in wonder.

"Hmmm…let me think about that."

He leant across and licked Spike across his mouth.

"Tastes good."

His hands followed the contours of his face.

"Feels pretty good."

He stared at Spike.

"Looks ok…"

"Bollocks!" Then more uncertainly he added, "Only ok?"

"Yeah, you know, passable."

Angelus pulled the covers slowly down, exposing more of his body. He gazed with covetous eyes. "Ah now, hasn't that improved the view? You look debauched. It suits you. Yeah, I've thought enough. I want."

Just for a moment, as he gazed into soft brown eyes that sparked with desire, Spike forgot the torture and pain, and saw instead a new world of possibility opening up before him.

"So how is this gonna work? You'll give up hunting humans or maybe if you took only the evil-doers…"

"I'll hunt who I want." He moved a hand over the chest, coming to rest above the heart he had stilled so many months ago. "But I won't make you join in."

"I'll be joining in alright."

Angelus spread his hand, admiring how large and masculine it appeared against the pale, taut stomach.

"You're really coming around aren't you? Damn it I'm good!" One finger trailed into his belly button and played gently inside.

Spike tensed and took a shuddering breath then slowly breathed out. Angelus nodded his approval as muscles that had clenched nervously to his touch, relaxed slightly.

"I mean, I'll follow you and I'll fight you at every turn. Get off me you, bloody ape." He squirmed as though he really wished to throw his sire off and prevent further exploration.

"You'll stay in our lair and wait for me. You know why?" Angelus asked.

Spike shook his head, almost lost to the feeling that the inquisitive touch was stirring up.

"You'll stay with me because every night this will be yours, all the physical passion you could never share with Angel." He stopped all movement. "Because I am your sire and you need this from me."

Spike was breathing heavily.

"Oh god, Sire!"

It was the 'sire' that did it for Angelus. Spike was his boy, his childe, his plaything. Maybe next time he would call him Master. The thought caused his whole body to shudder in anticipation. Spike let his eyes drift shut. He wanted this forever.

"Are you really going to let this go? Are you so pigheaded that you refuse to compromise?"

Spike opened his eyes and answered him with passionate honesty.

"Yeah, course I frigging want this! But it's you who refuses compromise. What are you prepared to give up for me? No, don't answer. I already know. Nothing."

Angelus answered with equal passion.

"When Angel came to Darla, he was prepared to drink from evil-doers and to ignore his family's cull of the innocents. I've offered you a compromise that he would have died for and whaddya know? It's not enough. Nothing is ever enough for you is it, Childe? Not satisfied until you've cut off my balls and have me following meekly like some frigging eunuch."

"No, I don't want that. You know what I want? I want Angel. I want to have this with Angel. I want to be with someone I can trust."

"Someone you love." Angelus sneered.

"I love you, too. Can't help it. But it isn't enough. I've had my fill of unrequited love. I need someone who will reciprocate, love me back."

Angelus turned away as though deeply hurt, hiding the calculating look that chased fleetingly across his features. It was as he suspected, this was the key. Spike had handed it to him many years ago. Love could defeat him. Love was all powerful. Angelus decided to woo his childe with love.

"Don't you know? This has always been about love. How could you not know that?"

"You're saying you love me?"

"And you're what? Surprised? I told you earlier, of course I freaking love you."

"Yeah, really feeling it, in every blow and every deceit."

"Hey, just my way. Demon here."

"Uh huh. Don't know what game you're playing but I've finished. No more games. Nada. Zilch."

"You think all this has been games." He swept a hand and indicated them both. "It has always been about love, you idiot."

"If you loved me you'd let me go."

"Cute. If you loved me you'd stay."

"You're selfish."

"Yet you still love me."

"Don't do this to me."

"Love is supposed to conquer all."

Spike turned his head away.

"It's just a saying, in my experience it's easily vanquished."

"Stay. Let me love you. I want to care for you, make sure nothing hurts you again."

"Including you?"

"I'm sorry." Angelus hung his head. "What can I say? It's my nature."

"I'm a demon, too." Spike admitted. "Part of me needs the passion and the pain."

Angelus came forward and pulled him into his arms.

"I know." He said and softly stroked his hair, teasing it into curls.

The gentle touch almost unmanned Spike.

"So where does that leave us?" He whispered.

"Here."

"Wherever that's at."

A kiss, fragile and delicate, passionless and pure.

"Wherever you want it to be. Do you want to go to Europe, see the Old Country? Whatever you want, I'll be there by your side."

Angelus slowly dropped to his knees and stared up with beseeching eyes.

"Whatever you want, my childe."

Spike could feel tears gathering. He was tired, so profoundly tired. He wanted to believe. He wanted to sink to his knees and take that beloved face in his hands, touch the soft brown hair, take away the hurt and never let sadness touch those beautiful eyes again.

"Please, just say yes."

"I've never been loved before. Well, me Mum, but that don't count, does it? And Angel, I think he did."

Angelus pulled him down until the blonde head was resting on his shoulder.

"He loved you. We're the same person, me and him. He was obsessed with Darla just as I was with Buffy, but you're our link, we both love you. Angel is gone forever but I'm still here, Will. I'm here for you, always."

"I want to believe."

"We'll make this work somehow."

"But we can't, can we? Demons, yeah? We don't change and love don't conquer all."

"You're not even going to try?"

"I can't. I can't be hurt by love anymore. Bloody hell, Angelus. You think I'm strong, but I'm not, I wouldn't survive it."

"What can I say? We'll just take you back down to your cosy cell and nice strong chains and then I'll go and wash that filthy four-lettered word out of my mouth."

He got to his feet and dragged Spike with him.

"Huh. You were playing me?" He knew, in his heart of hearts he knew it couldn't be real. It was something he could only ever have with Angel.

"But I refused you." The words were spoken sadly, almost as though he'd lost something precious rather than won a battle.

The words appeared to enrage Angelus.

"Yeah, you won, Spike, and may it give you joy. You're right, I was playing you. I don't love you, never did, never could. Your problem, William, is you're too bloody self righteous, but that's just my opinion. Angel found you irritating, attention-seeking, whingey, needy…must I go on?"

"No."

"Poor little Willy, even Mother Dearest turned on you."

Spike said nothing as his wrists were once more chained.

Angelus sighed.

"Think, Spike. If Angel returned, what then? Carnal passion is out of the question and now even your platonic existence won't answer. I lied, he loves you, and that very love means he can't stay. Perfect happiness isn't dependent on sex anymore. I'm the only sire you will ever have."

Spike didn't need this admonition to think. It had occupied his mind since Wesley shared his proof that Angelus had returned. It had all gone. All their plans, the home they had created from their own blood, they could never share such things again. He let forth a stream of curses in languages he'd forgotten he ever knew because anything was better than self-pitying tears.

oooo

"I promised Willow that I would go to Buffy." Giles explained. "Meanwhile Andrew has been assigned as the Council's L.A contact, with orders to help you in any way possible. He'll co-ordinate the slayers and we'll do what we can. You have to bear in mind that the Council is severely depleted. Spike, Angel, Willow and now I'm being called away. I fear that there may also be something wrong with Buffy."

"If Willow told you to go to her, then of course, you must."

"I realise you never really got to know Andrew very well and he may seem… odd. But he is reliable and he'll maintain contact with myself and Buffy. Can I suggest that you work closely with Andrew and also the slayers? We've taken up your suggestion and started to absorb them more fully into the Council hierarchy. They'll do whatever is necessary to bring in Angelus and rescue Spike."

"Have you heard anything from the two you sent to Seattle?"

Giles nodded.

"They've gained access to police reports Andrew will tell you more. I'm afraid that I have to be off, my flight leaves shortly."

Andrew flew in later that evening looking crumpled and tired but he insisted on updating them with the current situation.

"As you suspected, the police reports confirm that the homicides are not clustered or centred upon a particular area. Bodies have been found off Pioneer Square, Pike Place Market, Shilshole Bay Marina and the University of Washington campus. The only common factor is that large numbers of people can be found be at these places. The slayers will be patrolling Seattle tonight and will report in the morning.

"We may as well get some sleep then." Fred suggested, stifling a yawn.

"Whilst we can." Wesley agreed.

"We'll meet back at oh eight hundred hours. If you would care to synchronise gentlemen… and gentlelady, it will be precisely midnight in 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

He looked at them expectantly and they stared back in bemusement. Until Wesley finally looked at his watch say "Yes, midnight, quite."

The other two also gave their watches a cursory glance, Fred hardly liked to say that hers had no numbers and she could hardly tell what hour it was never mind what second but she nodded her agreement, she too made it midnight, more or less.

oooo

Angelus considered his depleting toolset.

He picked out doubt. To undermine any beliefs that Spike held true and attack the very reasons that he fought. With this new tool he planned to whittle his childe into a shape of his choosing. He focused inwards, discovering all those uncertainties that plagued the soul, ambiguities that had caused his counterpart to withdraw in confusion and brood in silence.

Angelus turned pitiful eyes to those that were hard with condemnation.

"Don't look at me like that. We all play our part. Even demons. Even me."

Spike made no reply.

"Like adversaries in some old cowboy film, I wear the black hat and you the white but you know we all serve the plot in our own way."

"Yeah, but this ain't some cowboy story."

"No, it's older than that. It's a story older than life. So I will play Angelus, the man in black, your nightmare when waking and do what I was made to do. I turn ordinary men into heroes; make them into all they can be, though I take them apart in that making."

Spike looked at him contemptuously, not understanding such an alien concept. He'd made it a habit of several lifetimes not to think too deeply. Misfortune and bad luck snapping at his heels and more often than not biting him on the ass, had given him a here and now Zen-like outlook on life. Shit happens. You deal. You move on. Philosophy according to William the Bloody.

"You make people? You torture, kill them, demonise them."

"It's undeniable." Angelus's eyes gleamed in the darkness. "I don't deny it. Yet I have saved more people than your precious white hats ever did. People can only find true strength in adversity. I am adversity."

"What is this crap! You have never saved a soul in your entire existence." Spike spat angrily and yet he felt suddenly doubtful because it was true, adversity brought forth potential.

Angel had a habit of thinking too profoundly and Angelus delved deep into the psyche to unearth the questions that haunted his souled counterpart.

"You know I speak the truth. You've fed from me and the bond is in place, so you understand that these words are not some elaborate lie to deceive, but great and universal truths are being spoken of. These people turn to me, sometimes in hatred and sometimes in fear and all is stripped away. I take them to a place where life is held cheap and conscience dear. They open their eyes and find me staring back and I am without mercy, I take their hopes, scattering them on the grave"

He paused to give gravity to his words.

"I take all sin unto myself just to make them brave."

Spike was struck by the sadness of the words and in their poetry he could almost see a grain of truth emerging.

"Don't misunderstand me, I'll laugh as I wound them and I'll mock as I chide them. I'm a teacher and the lessons of my classroom thrive and flourish when watered with tears of anger and rage, when glaring injustice lights the way. It makes the weak find their inner strength, gives the coward steel, teaches faith to the cynic and makes even the dead of heart feel."

"Yeah. I see it all." Spike replied with a cynical sneer. "You're a regular Mahatma Gandhi."

"I do what I must, Angel understood this. I can take an immoral man and show him an extreme, so he truly knows good and evil. I make him look into his soul and cry for mercy because he sees a mirror of himself and repents of his sins."

"Don't think that's why he was crying for mercy, Mate. They wanted to live."

"Yet everyone must leave this mortal coil. I am a predator and people die. If they were good people then they find happiness and salvation and if they were evil they reap the hurricane of their lives. Is this so bad?"

"And the people who live through your torture?"

"Are the people who become strong, who discover their inner hero, finding the courage to fight evil in all its incarnations. I sharpen and temper them, make them hard and uncompromising, their mettle forged by cruelty and pain. I am the fire that burns away weakness and fear. Without me these people would have lived their aimless lives. Their fate would have been to rut like animals in a field, bring forth their offspring and to fade away. Instead they become strong, they become heroes. Consider Holtz, consider Buffy…consider William"

"Be honest, you can't deny what you have become. Weak, needy William has become Spike. Would you have it any other way? I have made heroes from the poorest of cloth. I have saved souls as they wept and repented."

"You twist it all to suit yourself."

"That I do, William. Still, I speak the truth. I've always found it a far more effective tool than lies. And the truth is that you save lives but I am an artist and I save souls."

"You prey on weakness. You break people. That is your artistry." Spike spat out his denial, hoping the strength of it would swallow his own confusion.

oooo

It was a long flight to Italy and Giles dreaded what he might find there. Buffy was behaving strangely. Chatting to her on the phone she'd been bubbly but her mood switched so quickly and then she would become tearful and unhappy. He managed to sleep a little but the seats were uncomfortable and his head lolling forward jerked him awake. He was glad to hear the pilot announce; Aeroporti di Roma.

He gave the cab driver the address and then closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see his life continually passing before his eyes as the taxi negotiated the heavy Rome traffic and drivers who appeared to have their very own deathwish. It pulled up outside an apartment block close to the centre of the city.

"Grazie." He fumbled with the tip and made his way to Buffy's apartment. He found her name and pressed the buzzer.

"Buena sera. Mi dica?"

"Yes, you may. Let me in Buffy, it's Giles."

"Giles!"

Her voice squealed in delight and the buzzer indicated that the door had been released.

He took the lift to the second floor. His heart lightened considerably to hear her pleasure at his visit. He smiled. It would be wonderful to see her too. He knocked at her door.

"It's open, Giles."

He walked in.

"Buffy?"

"Be with you now."

He put down his heavy bag and looked up just as she appeared before him.

"Buffy you look…Oh dear God!"

"Nice to see you too."

"But you're…. Buffy…"

"Yes. Me Buffy. You Giles. Uh, so can we move on? Think we've got the intros covered."

"But…" He took a deep breath and finally made his point. "You're pregnant."

She gave him a fragile, uncertain smile.

"I had noticed, thanks."

"Who…?" He looked around the apartment as though expecting the nameless father to pop out of a corner.

"Come and sit down, Giles."

"I should be saying that to you, but, dear Lord!"

"Yeah. I get it, Giles. You're shocked. Now listen to me."

Giles nodded, still obviously stunned.

"I planned it when I found Spike was human, I had an insight into why it had happened, his being human I mean. There's only one thing that Spike can do as a human which he can't do as a vampire. This." She patted her distended stomach.

"Spike is…"

"Yes." She waited quietly for his reaction.

"Dear Lord!"

"Think you've got that bit covered but gee, thanks for the reminder."

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Of course, I'm pleased for you and… Spike. But Buffy, him of all people." This stirred a memory of Buffy flashing a skull ring and announcing that she was going to marry Spike. "Has Willow been playing with spells again?"

"No. Well not in the way you think. I know you never liked him but I thought you were over that." Her lower lip trembled slightly.

"It's not that, but Angel, or more to the point, Angelus. If he should find out…"

"I know and I think he already has. Giles, I'm being watched at nights."

"We have to get you away, Buffy."

"I'm almost due. I'm not supposed to fly this late in pregnancy."

"We need to get you to L.A. we have more resources there. We can protect you. It's ok, I'll arrange it all."

"L.A. where Spike disappeared from?"

"This will be different. Slayer guards 24/7. You understand? Nothing is going to happen to you."

He put an arm around her and in the face of such of such comfort and sympathy she relaxed enough to allow her eyes to fill and overspill.

"I've been so afraid. Not for me. But for my baby and for Spike."

"You silly girl. You shouldn't have suffered alone. You could have told me."

He stroked her hair soothingly.

oooo

They met up as prearranged. Andrew gave a tight smile, things were beginning to wind to crisis point.

"I do have some good news, the slayers have found a female vampire they believe it to be one of Angelus' minions. They caught it as it was about to feed and managed to take it down. We have a capture.""

"Are you sure it's one of his?" Wesley asked.

"Will it talk?" Gunn asked at the same time.

Andrew nodded, acknowledging both of them.

"They've questioned her but she's clearly terrified of the master and refused to give any information. She did say that she has seen what he does to disobedient vampires."

"Oh my God, Spike!" Fred gasped, with tears standing in her eyes.

"So I surmised." Andrew replied. "I would suggest that we need a plan."

"Supposing the slayers become careless when securing the vampire and let it think it has escaped by itself. Then they follow it to the lair?" Gunn suggested.

"No, it won't answer. Not unless we're ready to go with a full out strike against Angelus. As soon as the vampire reported that there were two slayers in town he'd guess we had discovered his city and we'd lose him again." Wesley replied.

"In that case, how soon can we be ready to strike?"

"The slayers have been prepared since we first realised our adversary was the mighty Angelus." Andrew answered. "They are fully trained and ready to mobilise at a moments notice."

"Are they aware of the situation?" Wesley asked.

"Not yet. Mr Giles recommended I speak to you first. They're frustrated at our lack of progress and we can't have them going off on their own."

"Fred, we'll need your tranquillizer gun."

"I'll have it primed and ready."

"I propose that we move in tomorrow night. Release the vampire an hour before dawn and follow it back to the nest. By the time she's warned the others the sun will have risen and with any luck they'll be trapped. We rescue Spike and capture Angelus."

"Do you think he's still alive?" Fred asked.

Andrew swallowed loudly.

"Of course he's alive, silly slender girl. He is Gandalf the White returned to us, more beautiful than ever. Did Sauron destroy Gandalf? No, he did not. Neither shall the vampyre Angelus destroy Spike."

"Uh…"

"Quite. Good point."

They were aware that Andrew had always hero worshipped the blonde vampire but after Spike had given his life to prevent Andrew's body being consumed by an Old One, the hero worship had been replaced by something deeper and more genuine and so they tolerated his occasionally whimsical offerings.

"We'll find him. We'll find them both and we'll capture Angelus and get Angel back as soon as Willow has dealt with our most pressing problem."

"You mean the end of the world? Has the witch been in touch?" Gunn asked.

"She hasn't made contact yet." Andrew replied a stab of anxiety passed over his face. "Nothing on our view screen but white noise and black emptiness. I fear she might be trapped in the final frontier that divides our world from the approaching void."

"It's a different dimension." Fred said comfortingly.

"Exactly." Gunn said. "No telephones or post boxes there."

oooo

"I'm given no credit for my role." Angelus mourned. "I play my part, the same as you or Angel. The cowboy in black, the dark stranger, I'm here to make them strong but not all can be saved."

"No! You search for weakness and then you take them apart!"

"I'll attack where I find weakness and those that survive emerge stronger than ever. True, weak instruments may break and friable rock will crumble. I cannot save them all. I am the hammer that shatters glass and forges steel. Answer me, William. Do I not speak truly, when I tell of the strength people find through me?"

"I can't answer…you're confusing me. I don't know, damn it! You're evil and yet some people become stronger... but it's wrong! Why shouldn't people be allowed to live their aimless lives, rut like animals, have children? That's what life is about!"

Angelus shook his head sorrowfully.

"The world needs heroes too, heroes who give up everything so that others can live their pointless lives. We both know that people are not born heroes they are forged, and not by kind words and loving glances. Can you deny that?"

Spike said nothing because there was no gainsaying it. It was a pure and simple truth.

"So I am the hero maker and by making one champion, I save thousands. I give my all to the cause and yet I am damned by my actions. You and other heroes will be praised and lauded and redeemed, whilst I stand in darkness, eyes hidden by night, to be spat on and reviled by the righteous who bathe in God's light."

"Well damn redemption and damn reward, still I do my task because, unlike you, I do as I'm supposed to do and play my part in the greater plan. You may call me Satan and I'll take his task as mine, take the curses and take the hate. My role is foreordained. As yours should have been…"

Spike felt dizzy, the truth of the words nauseated him, confused him. If Angelus spoke the truth, then was Spike playing on the wrong side? Was he cocking up higher plans for the greater good? Everything felt upside down. He remembered Buffy beating him down and leaving him to die in the alleyway. Would he have gone for his soul if Buffy had treated him any differently? Would he even have survived Buffy if Angelus hadn't taught him how to bear the pain?

"Don't…"

"Don't." Angelus mimicked cruelly. "You've wandered far from your path, Childe. You think a turncoat vampire, trying to do good makes any sort of difference? Do you think you know better than the Powers?"

"No…"

"Then its time you played your part and do what you were made to do."

"No."

"No?" Angelus laughed incredulously.

"Yeah, your words have the logic of truth, yet you tell me doing evil is justified and I can't accept that. Yet at the same time, I know that everything you've said is true."

"Contradicting yourself a bit there, Spikey."

"I've spent days being tortured, Pillock, and you expect logic?" Spike replied with a flash of his old acerbity.

"So join with me again, step back into the tale of Angelus and Spike, take back the part and make it your own. We can be what we once were. Good is such a grey area, all can be turned to good in the end just as all the works of every white hat may be turned to evil but that is for higher beings than us to decide. Consider Cordelia, so convinced she was doing good, becoming part-demon and then a higher power. It just proves that no matter what you choose, all things are twisted so that the result remains the same. It is predestined, decided by powers and the immutable laws of the universe."

"Don't tell me about grey areas. I know about grey areas, I am living testimony to sodding grey areas. Everything you say makes a sense, in a twisted, hall of mirrors sort of way. Yeah, I could join you again and maybe that would be of more help to the world. The thing is, Sire, I know you and I don't trust you. You've brought me here, to a place where I can't see right from wrong."

"Good, evil, right and wrong they all seem so pointless. When all directions lead to the same place then what does it matter which one we take? Does it matter?"

"I don't know."

"Then join me."

"I'm lost. Is goodness meaningless?"

Angelus could smell victory; it was so close he was almost salivating in anticipation of the taste.

"Personal morality is part of the detail but in the greater picture it's a hindrance, you know this, William. In your heart of hearts you know this. To defeat the Order of the Black Thorn, Angle killed the innocent Drogyn. Ripped open his throat because it was for the greater good. This is what used to send Angel brooding down into darkness, always doubting himself and his mission. He knew he could do more good without morality than he could living by a personal code."

Spike turned pained eyes to the dark figure.

"You have corrupted something in me, with your truth and sophistry. I can't trust myself." He muttered, his voice soft and confused.

"I have merely opened your eyes. Trust me and I will lead you through this land."

"I need someone to guide me."

"I've told you before, Boy; you have no one but me."

"I know nothing anymore. I can't trust what I am now, you've led me into this maze and I'm lost." Spike had tears in his eyes. "But I choose not to join with you."

The dark vampire gazed with incredulous eyes.

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"You said you don't believe in right and wrong? I mean, where's the difference, right?"

"Yeah. Irrelevant."

"Then I ask again, why?"

"What can I say?"

"Tell me why! You want to be with me, so why? All belief has gone. Where have you found the strength to deny me?"

"Because I used to be good, moral and passionately convinced of what was right and wrong."

"But you know better now."

"I do believe in something though. I believe in the person I used to be. He knew the difference between good and evil and I trust his judgement now mine has gone."

"You're making a bad mistake, Spike."

"And if I'm wrong perhaps some good will come out of it, isn't that the way it goes, Sire?

Angelus growled in frustration.

"My old self would have died rather than accepted what you offer. I will stay on this path. I will not join you."

The backhanded blow broke Spike's cheekbone and knocked him unconscious.

He gazed at his childe and, as he did so, he found doubt stirring in his heart. This wasn't what he'd sought. Sure, he wanted Spike by his side, but he wanted the exuberance, he wanted to have Spike next to him, overflowing with strength and joy. He already had one broken childe and the thought of Spike ending up broken or insane twisted something inside of him.

Yet what else was there? To let the boy go and live isolated and lonely until he was hunted down and the obligatory soul forced upon him once more? This thing with Spike may not be the future he wanted, but it was all he had left. Reluctantly, he grasped the tangled threads of his plan and began to smooth them into place.

He picked up a phone and made an international call. He explained himself slowly and carefully. Minions could be such idiots.

12


	5. Despair

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None for this chapter

**_Summary: _**Angelus informs Spike about the baby and the team begins to close in on them.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Despair**

Spike awoke to darkness and then realised with an internal 'duh' at his stupidity that his eyes were crusted over and sticky with blood. He moved to scrub at them but found himself still bound. He didn't bother struggling or trying to tear his eyes open.

He had been hurt, beaten, tempted by love and then denied it. He doubted himself and his purpose. Perhaps he had been arrogant to ever believe he had one. In a short moment of perfection, he had believed in himself, and Angel had believed in him, but now? His sire was gone. All that was left was a body animated by a demon. He'd won the confrontation but lost something valuable, some sense of who he was. He felt unable to cope with much more, there was no fight left in him, as empty as the night sky, the nearest spark a million miles away and all was lost and without meaning. He let the darkness wrap around him and hold him close. He was a thing of darkness and darkness was where he belonged and all that he was.

"You think you're empty. You think there is nothing else to lose. You hide in there but you should know there is no hiding from me."

Spike felt the tap on the side of his head. He tuned it out and instead listened to old songs that turned in his head. They were pleasant, reminding him of simpler times and they drove the other voice away. He whispered along to them through cracked lips and parched mouth.

"I am an anarchist. I am an anti Christ."

Angelus smiled grimly. It was an old trick, mindless repetition of rhymes, figuring out sequences of numbers. Ways of not thinking about the pain and proof that, despite everything, Spike was still fighting. He was impressed. Nobody had ever defied him for this long. He put a hand to Spike's damaged cheek, thought for a second and decided that now was the time to play his wild card, aces high, winner takes all.

"I suppose I could always kill your child."

He raised eyes that were bright and alert as he paused and awaited a reaction. Oh yeah, that got a reaction.

"Kudos for effort, mate." Spike mumbled slightly and spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. "But I dunno, seems a little slow-witted, you should know I've never made a childe. Dru was always enough responsibility. Made a few minions in my time, if that's what you mean. So yeah, go ahead kill them, save me a task."

"Oh. She never told you about the baby? I wonder why not? I mean, she told Angel but hey, you know how those two are. Thick as thieves. Well thick at any rate."

Spike could sense some new horror brewing and desperately returned to his song, but he'd lost his place.

"Of course, she wanted Angel to be the first to know. Although, personally, I feel that was a little unfair to you, a kick in the teeth, I imagine, after all you two shared together."

"So I guess you have questions? Hell, I have questions so I'm sure you do. I mean, jeez Spike, why you? Guess she'd been feeling a little lonely. Her Mom gone, her pseudo family of freaks and misfits all split up, and little Dawnie flying the nest. She decided the time was right to have a bright bouncing, bonnie babe. Just as she's realising there's no one around to do the deed, she discovered you, all warm and human and potent."

Angelus almost lost himself in memories of a warm, human William before focusing back on the point he was making.

"She thought you were dying so you were her good deed. She confessed she'd been so determined to seduce you she wouldn't have let you get away if you'd wanted to. Poor Will, she put up with your inadequate fumbling because she wanted a baby."

Spike tried to let no sign of his apprehension escape. The circumstances of their encounter sounded so like the scenario that Angelus described that he believed Buffy had confessed all too Angel. Hell, he'd refused her, admitted he preferred men and she still wouldn't give up, determined little thing his Goldilocks.

Déjà vu, the pain, the taunting and the belief that he meant nothing. He wouldn't listen, wouldn't let the pain in. He couldn't remember his place, best to just start afresh.

"I gave my love a cherry that had no stone."

"What you thought it meant something to her? Love? Connection? Eternity? I'm the only eternity you'll ever have."

And that too was familiar. Angelus tugging his chin up and saying 'I may torture you but I'm the only one who cares enough to do it, the only one who cares enough to teach you. I'm all you have, Will. Your everything.' And he'd been right, his whole unlife, the only who'd never deserted him. His Yoda.

"I gave my love a chicken that had no bone."

"It meant nothing to her. You know that don't you? Nothing."

"I gave my love a baby…?" He whispered.

Angelus raised his eyebrows.

"Shall I tell you a story about the young vampire who became a real boy? The real story that so few know?"

Spike tried to ignore him but the music was becoming more muffled and that voice stronger.

"He won his sweet princess and then gave up everything for a man he loved more than his own life."

His large hand moved gently through Spike's tangled locks and he sighed to see the sun dimmed.

"Yet this boy never knew how much he really lost in making his choice for he left not only his princess…"

Angelus noted that the toneless muttering had ceased. He picked up a cloth, dipping it into a basin of water and gently began to cleanse the blood away. Spike appeared not to notice his ministrations. Instead he strained towards the voice.

"But in due course his princess bore a child. The good witch cast a spell to ensure there would be a baby. His child."

"You lie!"

Angelus continued regardless.

"A boy child, with blue eyes. Demanding and attention seeking and she loved him all the more for being so like his father."

Spike no longer felt quite so dead. His brain was sparking and the scenarios it came up with were horrifying. Angelus cleansed his eyes until water ran down his cheeks like blood soaked tears. Spike finally forced opened his eyes and flinched backward from the parody of loving care that the older vampire was showing.

"The baby you tried to make me feed upon?"

"Not him. You know how I am, the artist in me demands a theme and the death of innocence seemed fitting."

"Are you going to kill him?"

Angelus said nothing but instead rinsed his hands in the slightly pink water.

"Would you stop me? What would you give to stop me? Your life? Your body? Your soul?"

"Can't be true…she would have said,"

"No, it's not true. The baby hasn't been born yet. Why do you think she's still alive? I want her to have that child as much as you do. You'd like to see your son, wouldn't you? And you will. I promise you, very shortly you will. We'll listen to his reedy little cries…do you remember how they cry?"

Spike examined the floor, he didn't need to look to know it would be stained a dull rusty red. All he could smell in this room was his own blood and pain. He wished his hands were free, if only to have a cigarette and hide in the fog of smoke that he exhaled. He shifted uncomfortably and then tried to hold still, knowing every gesture gave him away to the watching vampire.

Buffy was going to have his child and, despite Angelus's words, he knew the choice of father would have been incredibly important to her. The slayer had chosen him! True, she would probably have preferred Angel but that was impossible so she'd chosen him. How could she be so reckless? What chance would the thing have? The child of the last slayer, it would be a bloody prize for any enterprising demon wanting to make a name for himself. Hell, he'd have gone for it himself in the old days. And William the Bloody as the father, he probably had more enemies than Buffy.

However, his more immediate concern was Angelus and how long it would be made to suffer before he finally killed it.

"Angel fell asleep dreaming about it, its soft warmth and the scent of wet, bathed baby. It gets me right here," Angelus said, dramatically placing a hand over his dead heart, "how much he still misses his own little hell-spawn. He dreamed that Buffy would come to him, babe in arms, invite him to live with them, to join their little family. Then it entered his head, during those dark hours that maybe Buffy would meet with a fatal accident and you and he would have to bring the baby up together. Would you like that, Will? Me, you and baby? The games we could play. Shall Buffy meet with a fatal accident do you think?"

"Ok. I get the picture, yeah? Veiled threats, followed by not so veiled threats until we get to what you really want. What say you that we cut the crap and get straight to it? What do you want from me?" Spike asked tiredly.

"I like that about you Will, straight to the point. It's why I want you with me. You know, I tried to banish your soul. I consulted the most powerful sorcerers, the most potent of witches. I've leapt dimensions to discover arcane artefacts, fought the strongest, most vicious creatures of the darkness, all in an attempt to remove your soul. The outcome has always been the same. It's been bound too tight to your flesh. Trust you, William, to take it to such extremes. So after lengthy deliberation I decided to accept you back even with your putrid smelling soul."

He smiled at his own magnamity, the marvellous gift he had bestowed upon his favoured.

"I've made this offer before and I make it again, but this time I think it's an offer you can't refuse. So come to me, be with me. I won't insist on you drinking from humans, you may have your rancid pig's blood as long as you keep the sickening smell away from me, but in all other things you will be my vampire childe, you will travel with me, join me in hunts and you will be in my bed, as you always should have been. You will not betray me to your cohorts or your slayer lapdogs."

"So in return for leaving Buffy and child in peace all I have to do is stay with you, watch you hunt, kill and torture, become your plaything and not tell anyone?"

"That's all." Angelus' eyes darkened at the thought.

"Look inside yourself, find the memories of Angel and then remember, I'm a champion too, Angelus."

Angelus frowned as he considered this.

"He's not the champion you think he is. He has always put the ones he loved first. He'd have let the whole world go to ruin to have his baby brought back safely to him. He should have killed you when you were trying to kill the slayer, but he could never bring himself to do it."

"Maybe that's true, but I was tutored at the knee of a slayer, one who destroyed her lover to save the world. How could I do anything less?"

"Jeez, you would give up your beloved and your own child to save a few anonymous people! And they call me soulless."

He paced the floor a few times. He always had backup plans but he had thought that Spike would at least consider this one.

oooo

Giles worked quickly to arrange the flight and the medical attendants. He really wasn't happy subjecting Buffy to the stress of such a long flight, in her delicate condition. But he looked on the bright side, she still had slayer strength and she would endure, as always.

"We leave in the morning at daybreak. Besides being excruciatingly tired and jet lagged, I'm not willing to risk you being kidnapped by Angelus or his cohorts. Tonight we stay put. You, Buffy, are not to step outside the door until morning. A car will pick us up tomorrow."

"Yes, Giles." She agreed meekly.

He regarded her ready agreement with some suspicion.

"I'm serious, Buffy."

"So am I. Look at me. I could maybe break into a fast waddle but then what? I can't risk injuring my baby in a fight and if I try to hide, my way overgrown bump peeks around corners and waves at the bad guys. Bad Bump." She told her stomach crossly.

"All well and good then. Uh, I don't suppose you have anything to eat?"

She shook her head.

"I wasn't exactly prepared for guests. But I'll order something in? What would you like?"

"Roast dinner with yorkshire puddings?"

Buffy frowned.

"It' alright, right now, anything would be lovely, thank you."

"So tell me. How is everything going?"

"It's hard to say, but I can't deny that I'm extremely anxious about Spike. He's been in at Angelus' mercy for over a week. Then there is Angel, of course. How will we get him back without Willow? And if he does come back can you imagine what he will have to cope with, all this new blood on his hands. God Buffy, the destruction of a world! And then whatever he's inflicted on Spike… Even if this all ends well, there is still so much damage left. But I'm sorry I shouldn't be burdening you with all my fears."

"It's ok. It's nothing that I haven't thought about myself. Do you remember after the battle? They were so happy and it lasted a day or two. Don't they deserve more than that, after all they've done?"

"I can't answer that. Except to say that life is rarely fair."

"I know. I'm not a child anymore."

"I should certainly hope not. Especially since you're about to have one yourself."

She smiled and her hand returned to her stomach.

"Sometimes I'm looking forward to it so much I can hardly think straight and other times I wonder what the hell have I done bringing another child into this insane world."

"Maybe it's a way of making the world less insane? Children are our hope for the future, after all."

"Spike's child making the world less insane? He'll have it upside down and inside out by the time he's five."

"He?"

"Well they can't be 100 certain, but that's what they think. If I'm like your daughter, then this will be your, grandson."

"Buffy…" He gave a rare smile of genuine pleasure. Then it began to fade.

"What's the matter?"

"William the Bloody is my bloody son-in-law."

"I'll have to point that out to him. He's sure to want to call you Pops."

"Oh God…"

The buzzer went.

"Pizza."

She released the front door.

"You stay there, I'll get it." Giles said, reaching for his wallet.

He answered the knock and took the pizza. He was ravenous and tried to work out when he had last eaten. Sorting through the unfamiliar Euros took a while and in the end he settled for a note.

""Grazie." He reached out with a smile, putting the note into the surprisingly cool hand. He looked up to the face, which looked just a little like Spike's. The boy smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Buffy! Get to L.A . in the morning." He shouted as the hand tugged him through the threshold.

Suddenly Buffy was there and had caught his shoulder before he was dragged completely through the doorway.

"Don't do this. Please, Buffy! Get back in." He struggled out of her grasp but his struggle caused Buffy's hand to fall outside the protective barrier of the doorway. The vampire grinned, let go of Giles and caught Buffy. Giles pulled a stake from one of his pockets, stabbing the vampire from behind. Then a blow on the back of his head sent him reeling. Buffy emerged, standing a protective guard over him.

"Buffy, please…" He was trying to beg her to get inside but his head was whirling and unconsciousness took him.

The remaining vampire grinned at her, nodding at the ashes.

"I always disliked him. He was an idiot."

"Are we going to fight?"

"I don't fight pregnant women."

She started swaying on her feet.

"What have you done?"

He opened his hand and revealed a small dart.

"The idiot had one as well."

Buffy looked to the hand that had been grabbed and finally noticed something sticking out of it, before falling forward into the arms of the waiting vampire.

oooo

"I'm curious. If I kill Buffy and the baby, what would you do?" Angelus frowned as he contemplated this. "You know Angel went insane when one of his pets stole the golden child. Would you hunt me down through eternity?"

Spike blinked and eyed him warily. He licked his lips in anticipation of this game they could play across their wide expanse of forever.

"Would you dog my every step, until I saw your face staring back at me from every dark corner? Chase me across the world? Track me through dimensions? Become your obsession, your every waking thought, your nightmare and your dream. Would you lose yourself in the chase, the challenge of defeating your Sire? Until you finally cornered me. What would you do to me, Spike? Chain me up? Lay your hands on me in torture?"

He ran a hand almost caressingly along the taut length of Spike's bicep.

"Could you lose your soul in my flesh as you find new ways to make me scream? Use your pokers and your stakes to penetrate, to tease out the agony?"

He closed his eyes lost in the pleasure of imagining the scenario he was painting

"You could maybe try to break me, but remember I've been to hell, you'd have to recall everything I've ever taught you."

Spike raised his eyes from the small patch of earth he had made his study, he twisted around and Angelus laughed in delight when he saw the irises sparking with gold.

"You're still demon, Spike. I understand that better than Angel ever did. You can let your demon come out to play, it's only me. So tell me what you would like to do to me, Childe."

Spike shook his head as though he could shake off temptation and that voice, seducing him into a world of blood and violence and pain.

"You don't enjoy the artistry do you? But you enjoy words. You could carve out the words in my flesh. Betrayer. Destroyer. Adversary."

"Reach into my body and brand their names on my heart. The one you loved. The one you could have loved. Names wrapped in scar tissue and carved on a heart of ice. Break the heart and gather up the shattered pieces, thrust them back inside and let the skin seal over. Let the smooth exterior disguise the rattling damaged fragments. No rage, no false sorrow to well the tears, and your head full of thoughts so aberrant, skewing your sight as you traced on eternal skin those hidden words that none would ever see. Secret words of enchantment. The power of true names tangled with words of magic like 'sire' and 'childe', 'lover' and 'forever'."

His arms stretched out and his hands closed over Spike's, his lips tracing a cool trail over the sensitive neck, tasting pain, defiance and all the good things that made up Spike. Angelus smelt of power and arousal and Spike's face had changed, demonic fangs straining towards that power, attempting to swallow up the world he offered.

"I would break for you." Angelus whispered and allowed razor teeth to penetrate his skin, holding one hand protectively around the blonde head as fangs tore ferociously and painfully into his muscled chest.

Spike finally had what he needed, the rush of blood, the high, the feeling of power as he dreamt the dream of the avenging hero, standing in dominant triumph over a cowering Angelus. The demon would become his boy, his pet, his plaything. They could drown themselves in blood and pain and power. They could cut a swathe… The ecstasy of feeding ebbed away and the dream of triumph turned into the reality of a dark cellar, chains and a bloody earthen floor.

Having all his childe's desire and intense hunger focused on him and then the violence of the feeding called directly to his demon. The feeding hadn't been part of any plan but, hey, improvisation is at the heart of every successful campaign. He gently pushed the blonde head backward and Spike's fangs retracted reluctantly as he sucked on the remaining gobbets of flesh still hanging from now human canines.

"So tell me what you have planned for our dance across the centuries." Angelus breathed into his ear. "Shall we touch destruction, as we touch each other, with neither ever able to find the motivation to end the whole shebang? Share with me, Spike. Tell me your dreams."

Reluctantly Spike allowed the dream to shatter.

"If you killed Buffy and my child, I would walk into the sun. No touching scenes or last waltz, you would waken and put your ear to the shell of our bond and hear only emptiness roaring back at you. I would no longer be your partner in this dance. It would be over, Angelus. I would leave.

"Gods, Will. It's so good to have you back. We understand one another. I honestly think that one day you could break me, boy."

"Yeah? I'm touched by your confidence but you've never managed to get close to breaking my spirit, so either I'm better at something than you or maybe you're just weaker than me."

"Good point. Always were quick, weren't you little one? I hate to be pedantic but I haven't broken you yet, is probably the strictly correct answer. I know which strings make you dance and very soon... Put it this way." He brought his face close to Spike's. "I wouldn't bet against me."

Spike held his tongue. He knew the odds were well and truly stacked.

"So I'm not to touch the sow or the whelp?"

"Swear to me that they will be safe, Sire."

"Such humility, little one. I like it. Are you expecting me to put them under my own protection. Honestly, Spike, she's the slayer, although I suppose the child is almost family."

"You killed your family,"

"There is that."

"I meant, swear that they are safe from you."

"More than that, William, I do put them under my protection. Can you imagine the outrage in the demon world? Angelus and William the Bloody standing guard over a weak and birthing slayer, it's a statement, it has artistry. It would upset the order of things and every eye will be watching us with suspicion. It would mean we'd have to fight, William. Every damned one of them. Your idea of fun eh?"

"You're insane."

"No, I'm Angelus."

It was the grin from the old days. It was Angelus from the old days, when a hunt was going well. When he felt pleased and exceedingly clever and the whole family would benefit from his expansive goodwill. Unfortunately, if the hunt was going well then Spike knew he must be close to being brought down, for he was under no illusion as to who the prey was.

Yet demon and soul were in agreement, it might be good to have Angelus' protection for the mother and the baby, whilst Spike was caught between them trying to figure out the inevitable catch.

It was the smell of the decaying body of the baby, mouldering in the darkness that reminded him. Placing any sort of hope or trust in Angelus would be foolish. When Angelus was hunting, everything he said, every action, had artistic significance. There was a reason why he chose a baby when tempting him to feed, perhaps it was just artistic symmetry or perhaps it was to give the prey a sporting chance, reminding them he was evil and not to be trusted. He'd said his theme was death of innocence. Thus that poor anonymous child, merely a splash of colour on his palette, and his own loss of innocence as Angelus poisoned him with doubt. Two examples did not make a theme. Spike knew the crowning moment for Angelus would be to either kill or corrupt his yet unborn child.

Angelus watched the emotions as they passed over his face and felt that he had somehow lost ground again. He realised that Spike had been scenting the air and followed suit…ah, the baby. That could have been a mistake. The boy was too bright to miss such an obvious clue. He placed himself in front of the other vampire demanding attention with his silence. When Spike deigned to acknowledge him, he gave a nod, took out his cellphone and punched in a number.

"Tell me again." He demanded and then placed the phone to Spike's ear.

"I've captured the pregnant cow. She's unconscious and on her way to you."

Spike sagged forward as his worst fears were confirmed. He wondered how much longer this would go on for. How many times must he show that he was strong just so that Angelus could again show him how he was beaten down?

oooo

Four slayers, Wesley and Andrew flew into Seattle to join the other two. They had all exits on the building covered. Wesley and Andrew were in a car, coordinating the operation. Chris and Erica had been questioning the vampire all night and had now secured her with less than their normal rigour. They too were poised and ready.

A tentative movement and a slightly harsh, breathy voice burst through their radios.

"The prey has been sighted she is moving north and moving quickly. She is returning to the nest. I'm tailing her."

"Ops one, two and five flank her. Three and six back to base we'll attempt to get ahead." Andrew told them.

Two slayers immediately jumped in the car and Wesley took off, moving north.

"I'm following from the rooftops. She's slowed… she's entered a building. An all night café. It's called Munchies."

"There it is." Neesha pointed it out and Wesley pulled up on the other side of the street.

"We have it. Ok, we need to secure all exits from the cafe."

"Already done." Chris reported. The silence dragged out. "What the hell is the vamp doing in there? Snatching breakfast?"

"Oh hell and damnation." Wesley swore. "Tell them to kill it. Now."

Neesha and Kirsty didn't need further instruction, they'd spotted the problem and were out of the car. A fist through the café window, a smash that echoed agonisingly in the silent street but the task was completed, the stake struck home and dust swirled to the floor. A telephone handset hung down and swayed in the aftermath of violence.

"What…?" Andrew began to ask.

"She was calling someone. I'm such a bloody idiot! Angelus isn't stupid he knew we'd catch up with him eventually. He properly had all sorts of contingency plans prepared."

"You think she's warned him?"

"He wouldn't be stupid enough to allow one of his crew to lead us to his lair. She'd been instructed to call in if circumstances were unusual or suspicious."

Wesley got out of the car and wandered into the café. An employee had finally appeared.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You better not try anything. The police are on their way."

"I'm sorry. The young lady fell heavily and smashed the glass. We will pay for any damages. Here." Wesley produced a card. "Send the bill to me."

He wandered over to the phone and picked it up, about to replace it on its cradle."

"Wesleeey." A voice sang out. "I hear you, you know. I could never mistake that pissy, uptight tone."

Wesley held still, he felt his throat tightening in distress at hearing that familiar voice.

"Have you missed me? I know you have; you and the bitches. Talk to me, Wes, I know you're there, I can hear you breathing. Aw, come on, stiff upper lip old chap. I'd love to meet but unfortunately we're just leaving. But hey, I'll give you my address and maybe if you're really quick you might catch me. How fast can the slayers move? I'm at a warehouse on West Marginal… Oh too late car's here. Maybe you'll catch up with me in the next city. Maybe Spike will still be alive then. Who knows?"

The line went dead and Wesley hung up and blinked.

"He's gone. We've lost them both."

oooo

"Come on, Spike. Your little friends have come calling but unfortunately we won't be home. Time to leave."

He unchained Spike. The lack of muscle use made Spike crumple to a heap at his feet.

"Loving the position but sorry, no time to play. Another time though, eh?"

He lugged Spike up and suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a violent head butt.

Spike managed a slight chuckle as Angelus reeled backwards,.

"Called a Glaswegian kiss back where I come from."

"And now you wanna kiss…" Angelus raised an answering grin before smashing him in the stomach and, as he doubled over in pain, brought a knee to his face in a shattering blow. Blood sprayed out and Angelus tugged him up. His boy's tenacity never failed to astonish him but he had no time to applaud, the slayers were on their way.

"Tired of playing yet, William?"

Spike growled and Angelus swung at him again. He reeled away but Angelus sprang across the room landing with the full force of his body weight. Spike's head snapped backwards, striking a concrete step and was dazed enough for cuffs to be clicked around his wrists and then to be dragged to the waiting car. Angelus ordered two minions in and drove away, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.

"I've told the remaining minions that we're heading East. Wesley should find the place soon and with a bit of luck the slayers will torture them badly enough that they spill their guts, so to speak. Although literally is good, as well."

"So where are we going?" Spike asked listlessly.

"Somewhere we won't be discovered."

"Oh. Great." Spike fell silent and shut his eyes.

oooo

"It's me. Giles."

Wesley rubbed a hand across his forehead.

"Giles! Thank God you called. We've lost Angelus. He got wind that we were on his trail and he's left. All we've got is an empty lair."

"Oh. That is bad news. Was there any sign that Spike might still be alive?"

Wesley hesitated.

"Angelus indicated that he was and the vampires that we found trapped their confirmed it. For the moment he's alive. Also there was a basement. Manacles. Torture instruments. Blood."

"I see." Giles sounded immeasurably tired.

"Mr Giles… Rupert, is everything ok?"

"I'm afraid I have even more bad news. Buffy has been kidnapped by a couple of Angelus' lackeys."

"This is awful! Just two? I mean, how…?"

"Wesley, she's heavily pregnant. With Spike's child."

"Oh Christ!"

"I'm on my way back to L.A. but it takes the best part of twenty hours. I imagine that Buffy and her captor will already be on their way back to the new lair."

"New lair? But if she's already on her way then surely she'll end up here at Seattle. Oh sorry, I'm tired and I'm being stupid again. There will be at least one stop between Rome and Seattle. Whoever has her is certain to check in with Angelus and it'll be a simple matter to alter the route. I suppose the one positive thing is that there's a good chance Spike will be kept alive for a while. What's the point of staking him before he's been tormented with threats to Buffy and the child?"

Giles gave a bitter laugh.

"And that's the good news? Bloody hell! We have to find them."

"We will."

Wesley hung up. Sure they'd find them. He just didn't know how.

"Oh God, this is such a bloody mess."

Somewhere across the city a dark haired vampire drove through the night and he echoed those words in his thoughts. He reached out and lightly touched a smaller hand, the knuckles which were permanently skinned from fighting, stubby nails, which never seemed to grow. He smiled, some things would never change and this hand was one of those things. He sighed, part of him longed for another way, but this was the only way he knew and he'd see it through to the end.


	6. Sea Change

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None for this chapter

**_Summary: _**Things are going to plan for Angelus, but the plan appears to be changing…

* * *

**Chapter 6****Sea Change**

Maybe Spike was unconscious from the bang on the head or maybe exhaustion had overtaken his body and he slept a natural sleep. Angelus couldn't say, but as he lifted him from the car to their new residence there was still no sign of life. Finally convinced that he hadn't been followed, Angelus curled up around the cold, lifeless body. He felt dissatisfied. This wasn't how he wanted things to be. Maybe it would all be better once he'd broken Spike's spirit, then he could train him into the sort of companion he really wanted. Back to the way he used to be.

Tonight he'd lay another feather on the camel's back and see if it broke or held firm. Then it would be time for reunions. He shivered to the thrill of the coming confrontation, one in which he held every single ace. He slept the day away, his head whirling with plans and pleasant dreams of blood and pain.

He sensed that Spike was waking and whispered in his ear.

"Hey Spike good news. You're gonna be seeing your son soon."

Spike didn't move but his very stillness hummed with tension. Angelus gave a chuckle.

"I've got so many plans, so much that we can do together. Are you looking forward to playing with him? Then there's Buffy, we really need to get you dressed and looking like a Spike… I figured a collar and a lead."

He laughed at his own inane humour and tousled the blonde hair.

"We'll see how much control you have left when he is here, and you hear the cries of your pink, squishy son and Buffy's pleas as she begs you to do something. You think you won by defying me? You resisted my words but can you resist actions and consequences? Think on that, Childe. I guess we'll see how strong you really are."

Spike shivered because he was afraid that all he had were brave words and even those had now been spent.

oooo

She awoke and caught her breath. It was dark and her ears were filled by an unremitting roar. Trying to get a feel for her surroundings she moved a hand and hit a barrier, lifting a knee that too encountered resistance and the hollow sound of wood. She fought for her slayer training, the even controlled breathing, the focus. She kept losing it and struggling with mounting panic. Her only thought was, 'I'm in a coffin again! Oh God! I've been buried alive!'

She was a slayer and she needed every ounce of her training. For the sake of her child. She found herself thinking comforting thoughts to him, as though she were soothing his terror. The very act of thinking of him enabled her to control her own fears and she began focus. The noise was the roar of aircraft engines, she was on a plane. Flying to Angelus. She soothed her baby's alarm; it's ok baby, no harm, no harm, I promise.

That calmed her enough to enable her to meditate on her situation. She had been put in a coffin so that they didn't have to explain an unconscious woman. That meant her vampire captor was probably nearby. Had she woken too soon? Had he overestimated the effect of the drug? Maybe he'd not taken into account her slayer recovery. This might be the only chance she would ever have. She pushed tentatively on the lid to get a feel for its placement. Then keeping her wrist straight and strong, she thrust up with all the strength and leverage that the space in the coffin would allow. The wood creaked but did not bend. Again. And again. Until eventually she burst through, ripping a shard of wood from the splintered lid and leaping to a fighting stance. Her eyes were accustomed to the dark and she could see that she was in the hold of the plane, with luggage stacked all around. Another coffin lay next to hers. It was empty.

"He told me that his childe killed two slayers."

The disembodied voice echoed around the hold and sent chills up her arms. She squinted into the darkness, looking for a shadow within the shadows.

"He told me I was too stupid and too slow. That I was nothing."

Buffy slowly turned. She was beginning to get a position from the voice.

"But he was wrong. I could kill you. Look at you. You're nothing but a girl. A heavy, labouring, cow of a girl."

He was moving closer.

"He wanted you alive? Why was that, I wonder? Was he afraid to kill you?"

Come on, just a bit closer. Tempt him in.

"Please, don't kill me." She begged, in her terrified little girl voice.

"He told me that slayer blood was the tastiest thing in the world, his childe had loved it. He said his childe was clever and cunning and vicious. I'm not even a moon-shadow of him. Not fit to be his slave. He's wrong. I will kill a slayer, even if he is too afraid to attempt it himself. He will look upon me with pride. He will see me and accept me. He will call me childe."

"You're right." Buffy said.

The vampire was surprised to find her so close.

"You're not even a moon-shadow of him."

He had no idea how she managed to be in front of him. He could only stare in disbelief at the sliver of wood that pierced through to his heart.

She sank to her haunches and bowed her head as ash drifted over her.

"I'm sorry, baby." She gasped. "Sorry for bringing you to this terrible world."

In the diving roll that had brought her within striking distance of the vampire her waters had broken. She used her slayer training to concentrate on her breathing, calming her panic. But she desperately wanted Giles, Spike, Angel or Willow. Hell even Xander would do. Instead she was alone and had to look after herself. Herself and her baby.

The hold was pressurised but it was freezing. She found a large suitcase and knocked of the flimsy padlock. Searching through she found a man's fleece and a coat. She pulled on the fleece, climbed into the suitcase and tucked the coat around her like a blanket, pulling it over her head to keep in her body heat. There she waited, counting the time between contractions and breathing deeply.

As the plane came into land she considered her options. She broke up her coffin and hid the wood in the nooks and crevices of the hold and then she prepared the other coffin. When she was ready she closed the lid tight.

oooo

Angel considered going to the airport to collect them himself but everything was too rushed and he had things to prepare. He sent a couple of minions, all they had to do was pick up a couple of coffins, one of them containing a slayer. Jeez, how hard could that be?

Elle and Smith headed out to the airport looking remarkably respectable dressed in sombre black. They reported to customs, where they produced the necessary paperwork and explained that they were here to collect two coffins. The customs man disappeared and was replaced by another.

"I'm sorry, Sir, Ma'am, but it appears that only one coffin has arrived."

"Let me see that." Smith snatched the bit of paper out of his hand. "It says quite clearly that two coffins were shipped. So where the f are they?"

The other man was tense but since he was absolutely certain that it wasn't his fault he answered calmly enough.

"I understand what it says, Sir. But the fact is, there has been a terrible mistake and there was only one on board."

"A mistake! There's a family waiting to grieve over that body. How the frigging hell do you lose a coffin?"

"I understand your frustration…"

"Excuse my colleague's rudeness." Elle gave a small, tight smile of apology. "But you understand you are placing us, personally, in a very awkward position."

"I do understand Ma'am and I can only offer my apologies."

Smith had regained control of his temper.

"Could we see the one that did arrive?"

"It's here if you'd care to come with me."

"And when you trace the other one…"

"We're investigating and we'll let you know as soon as we discover its whereabouts."

The customs man shifted uncomfortably.

"Uh, the problem is we're going to have to open the casket. The shipping note, which should be attached, must have become dislodged. We're not sure which… body we have. I'm very sorry for this."

Smith and Elle looked at each other and then nodded their agreement. The question was plaguing them and they were anxious to find out who they had. If it was the minion he'd die a thousand deaths for this incompetence.

"I'll need you to sign to say that you gave your consent and that you witnessed the opening of the casket."

The coffin was before them. Elle scented the air. The scent was mixed and inconclusive. As the lid was slowly unscrewed and raised, they both prepared themselves for whatever might be inside. They took up a fighting stance in the expectation of confronting a very irate and pregnant slayer. The casket lid lifted and their muscles tightened in readiness.

"What the hell…?" The customs man asked.

They relaxed their stance and stared in disbelief.

"Good fing question. And do you know? I am tired of this little charade and jeez, you know what else? I'm tired of you and your rank ineptitude." Smith said.

Elle nodded her agreement. Angelus would boil them alive for this and they weren't going to suffer alone.

The man began to stutter an angry, red-faced protest, followed by a rising screech, stilled by fangs that tore into his throat and sliced through vocal cords. Smith and Elle were frustrated and more than a little irritated but the warm blood soothed them somewhat. They stared at the coffin, packed with clothes and shoes as though it were merely a suitcase.

"I wish that minion were still alive. He might have distracted the Master's attention from us." Elle growled.

They lowered the customs man into the coffin, settling him amongst the clothes and then wheeled the body out to the waiting van. They worked silently and efficiently. They might be young but they were old enough to know what sort of welcome to expect when they returned. They daren't even run. Angelus had a long memory and a damned long arm. They only had to look at his treatment of the blonde vampire for an object lesson in what happened to those that displeased him

oooo

Buffy was once again in an enclosed space. The large suitcase was slung on to the conveyer belt, out of the plane and down on to the motorised baggage trolley. It was standing upright, which unfortunately meant she was standing on her head. She wriggled herself around and then stopped as another contraction hit. Ok they were getting close she needed to get out now before she entered the terminal. She couldn't go through customs, the x-ray would reveal her. In desperation she kicked out and heard the material rip but there was further resistance. As she feared, her case was in the middle of the trolley. She kicked again and could feel the whole pile rock. Her legs were now free and she kicked out through the ripped side, dislodging bags that were wedging her in. The baggage handler hadn't noticed his loss as a case tumbled to the ground. She pushed out against another case so that there was now enough room for her to wriggle out of her confined position. She braced herself grabbed a soft sided bag to help cushion her fall and then she jumped, protecting her stomach as best she could.

She thought about nothing except what she had to do next. Make it to the perimeter fence. Her stomach pulled heavily on her spine and pressed down uncomfortably on her pelvis and she put a hand underneath her distended stomach, supporting it as best as she could. Still clutching the bag she'd taken, she began to stretch her stride, heading to the right of the main terminal. Normally it would have been an easy task for her with her slayer stamina but she was burdensome and slow, her breath came in gasps. When she finally made the perimeter fence she sank down in exhaustion and lay helpless as the next contraction took her.

She had to get herself up again and not give in, not after making it so far, but the pain and the tiredness were sapping her strength. The fence was razor edged and was covered in voltage signs. Under or over or through, she considered the possibilities. There was no way she could jump it given her current condition. So under or through? She began a quick search of the bag she had taken, a spade or a pair of wire cutters would swing her decision one way or another. She discovered some dollars, a metal nail file, nail cutters, nail scissors… Oh God. Not good, Buff. Ok think. Rubber souled boots and thickly insulted ski gloves maybe… but no, she couldn't climb in those. What did she know about electricity? It needed to be earthed. Birds on electrical wires don't get fried because they have no contact with the earth. If she jumped on to it, maybe she could climb to the top... stop thinking and do it. Oh! After this contraction. She sat for a while and curled up around the pain.

As soon as the contraction passed she took the money and emptied the bag, opening it fully and hooking the handle around her wrist. Then she nervously took a jump, landing halfway up the fence. She moved carefully but as quickly as her weight would allow. She was clumsy and ungainly but managed to reach the top, where she slung the open bag over the razor wire. Awkwardly she pulled herself over the top, slithering over the bag, which protected her from the barbed edging and finally found herself hanging down the other side. She finished the breath she'd been holding and with some relief lowered herself and jumped to the ground, stumbling slightly before recovering her balance.

Making her way to the main terminal exit, another contraction hit but she was nearly there, the bright lights announced Seattle / Tacoma International Airport. Thank God, her destination was in sight and the taxi ranks actually had cabs queued up for customers. She finally sank into the warmth of the cab.

"A maternity hospital please. Can you make it quick? I think the baby is about to arrive."

"Oh, lady, why d'yer have to choose my cab?" The driver groaned as he put his foot to the floor and radioed the office to warn the maternity hospital of an incoming patient.

oooo

Wesley and the slayers gloomily awaited their flight back to L.A. Another fiasco. Wesley blamed himself, he should have guessed that there would be contingency plans in place. It had been his decision to move quickly, maybe if he'd thought a bit more. The ring of his cellphone interrupted his self-recriminations. He walked away with a hand to one ear trying to get a better reception. The others listed intently to his side of the conversation.

"Yes."

…

"Thank God, for that!"

…

"I agree."

…

"Yes. Goodbye."

He turned towards a row of inquisitive faces.

"That was Giles. He's received a message on the Council's emergency number. Buffy has escaped. She's currently at the University Hospital in Seattle. No don't worry, she's fine, but she is in labour."

"Oh my God!" Andrew whispered. "Spike is going to have a baby."

"I believe it's Buffy who is doing the bulk of the work, but essentially you're correct."

There was awed silence.

"This development throws a completely different complexion on everything."

"Did the revered council leader have any instructions for us?" Andrew asked.

"He's travelling here to be with Buffy and to oversee the situation. I'm going to return and continue working on finding Spike and Angelus. We believe they have left the city and this is given even more credibility by the fact that now he has lost Buffy, he can have no further reason to linger here. However, there is a small chance he might attempt to track her down. He is notoriously persistent in pursuit of his prey. Therefore, four slayers are to remain here and guard Buffy and the child. Andrew, Giles is entrusting you with her safety until he reaches her.

Andrew put a hand to his heart.

"I swear. I shall protect the Last Slayer and her offspring with my own life if necessary."

"Yes, well. Let's hope that doesn't become necessary."

oooo

Giles felt as if he'd spent the last week sitting in a cramped aeroplane and he'd crossed so many time zones he hardly knew if it was yesterday or tomorrow. He'd been running on adrenaline and anger for so long, but with the news that Buffy was safe and being guarded, his body had given in and he'd finally managed a few hours sleep, grateful that his emotions had finally roller-coastered themselves out.

Yawning widely he felt for his glasses, just as the request was made for all passengers to fasten their seatbelts. He was getting far too old for this. They were coming in to land and he swore this would be his last flight for a while. He'd drive back to L.A. rather than subject himself to another minute of air travel. He unfolded his tall frame and felt his bones creak and his muscles complain from lack of use and desperately tried to avoid all thoughts of deep vein thrombosis.

It felt good to be back in the States, everything looked so bright and clean compared to Europe. Rome was old and its antiquity closed in around him, the years crowded and stifled him but the U.S. was young an adolescent trying to find its way. He found that he'd grown accustomed to noisy, brash youth and the arrogance and certainty of the young. He smiled to hear the familiar accents as he passed grim-faced customs staff. Climbing into a cab, he asked for the University Hospital and, to his surprise, felt tears pricking his eyes. She was safe. His brave, beautiful child was safe. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to hug her or scream at her for putting herself in such unnecessary danger, just for him.

He arrived at the hospital and was directed to her birthing suite. He stopped and rested his forehead lightly on the door, trying to compose himself before he entered and then gently opened the door, knocking lightly as he did so.

"Buffy."

"Giles."

He looked at her. Her hair was bedraggled and her eyes ringed with black.

In two steps he was by her bedside and she threw an arm around his neck.

"Dear girl. My dear girl. Thank God you're alright."

"Oh Giles! I'm so glad you're here. "

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"

"Look." Her voice was soft and full of wonder "I have a son and he's beautiful."

Giles drew back and looked at the bundle she held in her other arm.

"He's perfect. I'm so happy for you, Buffy."

"An addition to our family."

"My grandson?" Giles asked with a slight smile.

"I'd like that." She replied, blinking back tears .

"I'll always be there. For you and the child."

The birth had been hard and the stress and trauma had taken its toll. She'd lost blood and was now on a drip, but as Giles wrapped his arms around her, she felt safe within that protective circle and let her eyes drift shut.

Andrew, Chris and Erica stepped outside to afford them some privacy. Andrew wiped a tear away and sniffed.

"I'm not crying." He told the girls defensively. "I think I got some dust or something in my eye. Or maybe a bit of lint. There's always lint floating around in hospitals, all the bandaging they do. Though not so much in maternity hospital, I guess. Maybe it's…"

"Andrew?"

"Yes, Erica?"

"Sometimes the situation demands that a real man sheds a tear. I'd guess it adds about 2 percent to their manliness quotient."

"Really? And is this that type of situation?"

"Mr Giles was crying and he's always manly."

"Yes, he is isn't he? Well I'll admit there might have been a glint of manly tears."

"So what's your current percentage?"

"Well, I have to admit, a girlish scream escaped me about a month ago, which set me back a little. However, with today's incident and my general command of the situation over the last few weeks I would put myself as high as 49, which is a 96 increase in manliness."

"You started at 25? Hey, in no time at all you'll be up to Spike and Angel levels."

"Really. So… what would you estimate them at?"

"Hmm. What do you think, Chris?"

"Well Angel has to be 100. But Spike… maybe only 99."

"You think? I see where you're coming from but it's hardly his fault."

"What?" Andrew asked anxiously. "I don't understand why Spike has lost a percent."

"Half a percent for those gorgeous cheekbones." Erica explained.

"And half a percent for his slender build."

Andrew thought for a second.

"I get that, but shouldn't he get an extra point for his deep growly voice that just sends shivers right through you?"

The girls kept their faces appropriately solemn.

"Good point, perhaps we'll have to recalibrate the scale to take that into account."

Andrew nodded in satisfaction. It was nice when the girls took his views and opinions seriously.

oooo

Spike awoke.

He realised they couldn't have travelled far, the scents and the sounds remained unchanged. But what did it matter? Here he was trapped in yet another sodding basement, impotent, his limbs were chained and fettered, and he was unable to protect the ones he loved. Buffy, his baby… Angel. He could have cried a river at the predictability of the coming night, as inevitable as the tides.

Haunted by the ghost of the weak fledging he had once been and the physical reality of his fearsome sire, who was watching every move, every flicker of emotion. He was that fledgling again, with all the helplessness, the dependency on the whims of his sire and the sense of being completely alone.

Which was bloody ridiculous, when he thought about it, even now Wesley and Fred would be searching for him. The slayers would be gearing up the way they'd been taught and he wasn't a weak little fledging but a master vampire. They'd found him once, they would do it again. Or Angelus would eventually slip up, present him with some opportunity. If he could just feed, build up some strength, get free, seize a chance...

Angel saw the light of hope sparking in Spike's eyes and knew it was time for yet another straw.

"By the way I forgot to say I found this."

He held in his hands the tracking device. Spike gave no reaction as it was slowly and deliberately ground to dust and scattered at his feet.

"Not that it matters, I've had the place protected against detection. I guess it's the symbolism that I love so much. Your symbol of hope, crushed and gone and scattered. I can't help it. I love the dramatic gestures."

"Yeah, you have a real talent for them. You're a regular sodding drama queen."

"Come on, Spike. Don't be like that, just as we were starting to get on so well together."

Unknown to either of them the dramatic gesture was a bad mistake. It triggered the innovation developed by Wesley and Fred, a failsafe, in case all else went wrong. It sent out a flare strong enough to break through the protective barriers and lit up the location like a beacon. They hadn't informed Spike, fearing that if the bond was in place the older vampire would read a flash of hope,just as Spike's final hope was supposedly destroyed.

Spike's posture spoke of defeat. There was no cavalry charging to his rescue. He was alone. Alone with his pain and his doubt; he felt close to despair. Heavy in heart and limb, all strength leaking from his bones. Maybe the strength to lift his head but why would he want to? Not sad, not happy. Not anything. Behold this creature. Behold nothing.

Tomorrow maybe he would rise again and pretend to live. Celebrate his life as a testament to the genius of Einstein, proving yet again the incontrovertible relationship between mass and time, as he was crushed by the weight of his years, Tomorrow he would rise and find a thousand reasons to rejoice in life. Tomorrow he would fight again for Buffy's sake and for the baby. But now, at this moment, he wished to lay down this burden. Just for a minute he wanted to let it go. Just for a minute he wished to lay down his head and rest and not rise again tomorrow.

The dark figure lifted up the head and wondered how he could have imagined rainy days or blue skies in those eyes. All he could see were icescapes. What had once been as sharp and bright as newly worked flint had been crushed and ground, pulverised moraine and he, Angelus, was the mighty glacier, cold, heavy and lifeless. He tried to look with pride on his work but somehow the rules of the game had changed without him noticing and just as he was about to crow in triumph he realised he'd won a game but lost an entire world.

He grinned and tried to laugh; it cracked and broke unnaturally in the stillness. What was wrong? What was this feeling? Shame? Angelus knew no shame, so instead he named it regret. He regretted the light that had faded from those eyes. He acknowledged his fatal mistake; he'd forgotten where he ended and Angel began. He'd forgotten the place where they met and briefly entwined, one indistinguishable from the other, the place where wounds to the soul were wounds to the demon. Spike was their meeting point, his dead body vibrating with a life force, which overflowed and brought to life all who were near him. Even Buffy. Even Angelus. He'd thought that by breaking him he could twist Spike to his will. Instead he found he'd broken all the things he cherished most in his childe: his life, his humour, his defiance.

Angelus, so cunning in reading and manipulating the emotions that surrounded him and so innocent of his own, frowned and wondered how to mend his boy. He didn't know how to start, he only knew how to break and ruin. Angel was the one who picked up the pieces he left behind, love and guilt driving him to attempt to mend, carefully filling the cracks and making everything anew. Or his boy, always following in his wake, sweeping up his debris and patching up his playthings – Drusilla and Buffy – wreckage he'd left behind.

Now who was left to mend and heal?

"Spike? Childe…little one?"

There was no answer. He realised that he couldn't rebuild this broken thing, instead it was up to Spike to win back any last vestiges of sanity. Spike needed to fight, needed to prevail and once again roar his power to the world.

Angelus sat back and contemplated the still figure and calculated how much he was willing to lose to bring his childe to life.

oooo

"The beacon's been triggered. We've finally got it!" Fred called.

"I've got a fix on it." Wesley replied. His voice was coloured with excitement and hope. "Oh my God! We must call Giles and let him know."

"Why? Where is Angelus now?"

"He's still in Seattle. In fact, if I'm reading this right, he's simply crossed the river from his old place. The sneaky bastard had a bolt hole prepared."

Giles picked up the call from the hospital reception and sat in the lobby to think. Andrew approached tentatively.

"Mr Giles?"

"Hmmm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"Has there been a new development? It's just your face. You look pensive."

"The tracer has been destroyed."

"So we know where they are?" A smile lit up the young man's face.

"Yes. He's still here, in Seattle."

"I'll get the slayers. We'll move quickly and mount a surprise attack."

"No, you are not to hunt Angelus. We stay here and guard Buffy."

Andrew's face fell but his own distress changed to a focus that he'd rarely attained before. He had to help Spike and he couldn't allow himself to give in to nervous mumblings or talkative hysteria that so often overwhelmed him and underwhelmed those around him.

"Mr Giles, we need to find them. Who knows how much longer he'll keep Spike alive? Or what will be left of him when we do find him. The slayers will want to…"

"The slayers will do as they're damned well told! Angelus will come for Buffy and the baby, and we have too few resources to allow us to cover both the nest and the hospital. The logical choice is that we remain here and capture Angelus when he attempts to take Buffy or the child."

"But… he's tricky. Supposing he has some cunning, nefarious plan…"

"We have four slayers. Each of them would stand a good chance against Angelus, over the past months they've improved beyond recognition and they're even more determined than you are to get Spike and Angel back."

"Mr Giles, if I may speak frankly? I feel that I should point out, your view of the situation is distorted by your fatherly love for the Last Slayer…"

Giles voice was emotionless but he could almost feel himself shaking with anger.

"Mr Tucker, if I may speak frankly?" He asked coldly.

Andrew gave a nervous nod.

"I feel that _I_ should point out, your view of the situation is distorted by your far from brotherly love of the vampire."

Andrew froze to the spot and his face flushed red as he stared at Giles, his mouth opening and closing.

"I…" he cleared his throat and looked Giles in the eye, "I've never tried to hide it or deny. He died, saving my life and even if I'm labelled an idiot for my devotion, he has it nonetheless."

"An extra 1 manliness for the boy." Chris whispered.

Giles suddenly felt uncomfortably as though he were in the wrong.

"I apologise. I didn't mean it as an accusation or as something shameful. Love in all its form brightens this sad world. You're right, I am biased, but I do assure you that in this particular situation I truly believe that if we wait here then Angelus will come to us."

Andrew gave a dignified nod.

"I too apologise. Our duty should be to the Last Slayer and her newborn."

oooo

Elle and Smith returned nervously and found Angelus sitting on the stairs, obviously deep in thought..

Angelus eyed the coffin. He could smell recent death and fresh blood.

"What the frigging hell is this?"

"When it was opened we found it filled with clothes, Master."

"The slayer?"

"There was no sign of her."

Angelus rose and strode towards them, ripping off the coffin lid to reveal the body inside.

"What…?"

"The customs man. He was an idiot."

"We were discreet, Master. There were no cameras and no witnesses."

Angelus scented something beyond the blood and death. He picked up a fleece and held it to his nostrils. It smelt of Buffy and pain and… birthing waters.

"Master?"

"Elle, call the maternity hospitals. Say your name is Dawn Summers and you're trying to find out how your sister Buffy is doing. I want to know where she is. You never know, there's even a chance that you might live through this debacle."

She ran off to obey.

"What do you want me to do, Master?" Smith asked trying to ingratiate himself back into Angelus' good graces.

"You can go out and buy some blood. Pigs, cows, frigging stoat, I don't care as long as it's not human."

"You want me to _buy_ blood?"

Now the master was truly insane. What was the point of buying inferior blood when the real stuff was walking around on tap? He caught a glimpse of the lowering brow and decided not to question further.

"Yes, Master."

Then he too scurried away, leaving Angelus alone with his thoughts.

This was such a frigging mess.

And he could hardly believe what he was considering. He gathered some blankets and a bowl of hot water and released Spike from his chains, He sat with the blonde head resting in his lap and began to gently wash him. The bruises and the cuts brought him no delight. If anyone else had inflicted such wounds upon his childe he would have roasted them slowly, years of torture would not have satisfied him. It was finally occurring to him that it had all been in vain. The Spike he'd wanted had been there all the time, but never his. He'd been made for Angel. No matter what he did, the childe would never be his. This world would never be his. Like the time of the Old Ones, maybe the time of Angelus had passed.

He bit a finger and began rubbing his blood into the wounds, watching as cuts disappeared and skin became whole. Once he had healed Spike's body he would consider his mind. He'd broken many people. Would Spike join their ranks? Or just this one time would he use his talent to mend. Angelus was undecided which direction to go, should he make or break?

He heard Smith return, covered Spike with blankets and returned upstairs. Elle was waiting for him with her good news.

"I've found her! She's at the University Hospital and has given a birth to a son. She's in birthing suite three."

He nodded. "Try to get a plan of the hospital and a location on that birthing suite. I think we should go visit the proud Mom this evening."

He took a couple of bottles of blood from Smith and returned to Spike.

"Frigging pig's blood! It stinks." He complained, as he barged into the basement, waking Spike with his loud tones and noisy entrance. "And if you refuse it, after all the hassle of getting hold of the stuff, I'll shove it down your throat."

The figure under the blankets just curled deeper into them. Jeez, he was so irritating. Some people just didn't want to be helped.

He reached under the blanket, grabbed a handful of hair and tipped Spike's head back.

"Well? You gonna drink or am I gonna force it down?"

Blue eyes slid away from his glare and a white hand snuck out and took one of the bottles. Angelus released him and moved out of his sight, listening to the gulping sounds. This was the first he'd drunk since the bloodplay in the cellar, when Angelus had threatened Buffy and his childe.

A few minutes later the emptied bottle rolled across the floor.

"My blood would be better for you."

"Sod off."

Angelus smiled slightly. That was more like it. He made a small gouge in his wrist and placed it under Spike's nose, hoping the rich aroma would cast its spell. This time Spike did not succumb, not even when the blood was smeared on to his lips.

"Come on Spikey. It's not over yet, we've more games to play."

No reply.

Angelus picked up the empty bottle and let his own blood fill it. He placed it within Spike's eye-line.

"I'm giving you a sporting chance and bringing you back to full strength, so wake up and smell the frigging corpses. I might not be feeling so generous later."

He slammed out of the room but then listened outside the door. He heard the clink of the refilled bottle. The boy was beginning to think about fighting again. Jeez, this was such a bad idea. But eventually Willow would return and shoehorn that soul back in. Better to arrange it on his own terms. Now that he'd worked out that his motive was wholly selfish he could relax again. He whistled as he considered the work to be carried out before his guest arrived. Make the cellar a bit more homey and feminine. Maybe fur covered manacles would do the trick?

8


	7. Phoenix

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None

**_Summary: _**Spike is rising from the ashes and Angelus is planning the unthinkable

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**The Phoenix**

The slayers kept shifts. All four of them were awake for eight hours during the night, two stayed with Buffy and two with the baby. Then from early morning until late evening only two would stand guard as the other pair took their eight hours rest. It was a tedious business but they took it seriously and stayed alert.

Erica and Chris had pulled the babysitting duty and were sitting outside the room, where the sleeping babies were monitored.

"Erica?" The bigger girl looked across as her name was whispered. "That nurse…?"

Erica looked across and knew what her partner meant. The nurse set her slayer senses jangling.

"Vampire." She whispered back.

Chris nodded. "I'll go deal."

She disappeared from sight. The 'nurse' appeared to feel something was amiss and sped up. Erica remained watchful. The nurse maybe a distraction, which meant she might have to deal with the real thing. She tensed, as once again she heard her name being whispered.

"Erica…"

"Angelus." She replied.

"So I get to deal with the fat slayer. My lucky night."

She moved with all the additional speed and strength that the recent training with Spike had given her to pull off a surprise attack. Angelus was sent reeling as a punch crashed into the side of his head.

"Whoa! Has somebody got some muscles hidden somewhere under those layers of flab?"

A spinning kick and her outstretched foot caught him on the chin cracking his head backwards. He somersaulted further down the corridor, she followed keeping him covered and he took a moment longer than he needed to recover, hoping to entice her in, but she'd been taught well and maintained her distance.

"Not quite so svelte yourself these days, Angelus."

"Luckily mine is solid muscle. Rock hard, I promise you. Would you like to feel?" He gave an impish grin.

She just maintained her watchful stance.

"In my day someone with your ample shape would have been a tavern wench."

She bent and drew a stake from her boot.

"Uh, uh. I know the drill. You're supposed to capture me alive." He licked his lips. "A bit dangerous waving sticks around in front of a vampire."

He backed away a couple of steps to give himself more room and the swung in with a foot to her solar plexus but she caught it before it could strike, he used the firmness of her grip to flip backwards into a standing position, landing with a solid thump. She dived in low and swept out with her left leg, hoping his landing would be off balance and she could bring him crashing to the ground. He anticipated the manoeuvre and leapt over her leg, leaving her disadvantaged and frantically trying to recover her position. The momentum of his jump carried him forward so that he was now behind the slayer.

She suddenly found herself being hauled up, one arm around her neck, whilst the other hand snatched the stake from her loosened grip.

"You know, I really think tavern wench would have been the better career move." He pulled her tightly to his body and a small gasp escaped her. "I've been in this position with so many of them. You would have been perfect at it. Serving the customers before you… serviced the customers. You slayers! Fighting gets you so damned horny, I could take you here and now and you'd love it wouldn't you?"

He played the wooden stake over her body, letting it stroke her lips, down over her neck, caressing her exposed cleavage. He could smell her arousal and knew he spoke the truth.

"It must be so rare for a slayer to feel dominated. It's a turn on isn't it? In the old days I'd have obliged. You could have me one side me and Spike the other… Oh! That got you. Did you like that little image? Looking down and seeing one dark head and one blonde, nestling into you?"

His dirty sweet words were exposing a frailty she never knew she had. Her knees were turning to jelly and her stomach was churning. She wanted what he described. She closed her eyes and came back to her senses. It was just a scenario, it wasn't on offer to her and she'd better accept that and get on with the job.

Angelus felt the change in her stance and sensed she had mastered her weakness. To her surprise he was gradually loosening his grip.

"Sorry, Sweetness, I was just the enjoyable distraction. The baby is gone."

Her head whipped around and she saw the door to the baby's room had been broken open. He punched her with all the force of his vampire strength and, cold clocked, she went down. He quickly set off to rendezvous with Smith.

Chris returned. She'd killed the vampire. It had some skill, but was probably only a fledge. The open door first caught her eye, she looked down the corridor and saw Erica just beginning to come around.

"Oh hell! What happened?"

"Angelus."

"He got the baby?"

"Seems so." She got to her feet. "Better go face the music."

"So Angelus was tough then?"

Chris gave her friend an arm to lean on.

"Yeah he was, but you remember how Spike warned us that he'd distract us with words?"

"Uh huh."

"If I have to face him again I'm going to stopper my ears with wax."

"What did he say?"

"It's still a bit… you know. I'll tell you about it later when this whole thing is over with. I might be able to laugh about it then."

"That bad?" Chris sympathised.

"Let's just say I never really understood the seductive power of vampires until now."

"Oh? Oh…"

oooo

Angelus stripped off his leather coat and handed it over to Smith, taking the baby in return.

"I want you to distract them. Make sure they see you and then run in any direction except back to the lair. Here."

He took a shawl from the baby and handed it to Smith.

"Wrap a stone or a bag or something in that. Make it look like you've still got the brat."

Smith nodded his understanding and Angelus got into the car and put his foot down, heading back to the warehouse.

Meanwhile the slayers were regrouping. Buffy was sleeping and Giles made the decision that she was not to be told until the morning. He sincerely hoped the baby would be recovered before then.

Kirsty was staring out the window.

"Hey you guys? I think I can see Angelus and the baby."

He seemed to suddenly notice that he'd been spotted and hugging his bundle to him he strode away.

"Right. Kirsty and Neesha follow him and keep in touch. Call if you need backup. Erica and Chris, I'll take you to the lair and we'll pick up Spike. We still have the advantage, Angelus doesn't know that we have located his lair. There is every chance that that's where Angelus is heading this very moment."

"Ummm." Andrew half raised his hand. "What shall I do?"

"Sorry. I assumed you'd want to come along and rescue Spike."

"Rescue… Sure that would be cool." He agreed and tried to hide his smile at the thought of seeing Spike again.

The two slayers who were chasing on foot had already left, the rest of them headed to Giles' car. An air of excitement hung over them. This was the fight that the slayers had been waiting for since Angelus had first emerged and Spike had been snatched.

oooo

Spike couldn't understand why he was still unchained. Perhaps Angelus had considered him broken and decided he was no longer a threat. He gulped down the second bottle of pig's blood it helped, but it was Angelus' blood that had done the trick. What had possessed the old Poof to share his blood? He stood up and felt strength coursing through him. He stretched a couple of times and then went through some whiplash fast moves. His eyes gleamed with a new determination.

"Bring it on Angelus."

He went up the steps and hammered on the door. No one shouted or responded and he assumed he was alone. The door was steel and of heavy industrial construct, the weakness would be at its hinges. If he had time he might eventually get through, but he suspected time was the one the one thing he was short off.

He went back down and walked the perimeter of the room. He could hear flowing water and knew that sometimes a warehouse would be built into the bank of the river, so unlike the other three walls the riverside wall would not be underground. This appeared to be the case here. He knocked on the walls as he passed and found a weakness. There was an old double door that faced the river, which had been blocked up in more recent times. The newer bricks were built abutting the old wall, without being dovetailed in. He gave it a kick and could feel it shudder and crack along the joining seam. He did it again, this time throwing all his strength into it. A part of the wall shifted and fell, so that Spike was scenting freedom for the first time since his capture.

He wriggled outside and made his way to the front of the warehouse and then back in thorough the front entrance. He walked around and examined the space where he would take on Angelus. He took it as a good omen that the first thing he found was his duster, and with a sense of satisfaction he pulled it on. It made him feel like his old self again. Unbeatable. All his doubts and questions and frailties began to dwindle. Shit happens, deal, move on. That was the only philosophy that had ever made any sort of sense to him. Ok, the doubts were still there but he was beginning to bounce back again, just like he always did.

He found an ideal spot on top of some packing cases, to the right of the door. From here he had a view of the whole floor. He worked loose a solid baton of wood, used to support the corners of the wooden cases. It came free and he hefted it in his hand, getting a feel for the weight and the balance. It felt good but needed a better point. He worked on that whilst he sat down to await his Sire's return. Sharpening the stake soothed him and prevented him from dwelling on who else might walk through the door with him. He would deal with that when it happened.

oooo

Neesha's voice crackled over the radio.

"We've caught up with the vampire. He is not. Repeat. Is not Angelus. The baby is not with him. He was a decoy."

"Very good. Stake it and make your way to the lair." Giles replied.

"Will do."

Andrew cleared his throat nervously.

"Ummm. So Angelus will be back at the warehouse then... with Spike?"

"Don't worry, Chris and I can take him." Erica was still smarting from her earlier defeat.

"I'm not worried." He lied, "But shouldn't we be discussing tactics, making plans? Supposing he threatens Spike or the baby or…"

"Andrew. We've been trained by the best. We'll suss out the situation and we'll adapt."

"Andrew's right." Giles agreed. "We need some basics in place. We want to take Angelus alive but he is not to escape again and he is not to harm the baby. If there is any threat of that happening you're to do whatever it takes. However, we have the tranquillizer guns, so if you can hold him for a second Andrew or myself will take him down. We need to handle this as a team and all stay aware of what our goals and priorities are."

"And Spike?" Andrew asked.

"If anyone can handle Angelus it's Spike. He's not our immediate priority."

Chris and Erica exchanged looks and nodded. Giles had allowed sentiment to cloud his judgement. For the good of the Council they had set a slightly different agenda. Save Spike, bring Angelus in alive, save Spike's kid. In that order.

oooo

Angelus sensed something was different as soon as he entered the warehouse. Some indefinable change in the atmosphere, as though he could scent the determination that rolled from the waiting vampire. He hid the baby under his shirt, where it slept, peacefully unaware that its fate was in the hands of one of the most fearsome vampires to stride the world.

He felt quiet satisfaction that his plan was working out. Spike was growing strong and shortly Angelus would have to make the decision that would change both their lives forever.

Spike made a mistake. The baby was covered in the vampire's scent and he didn't immediately notice it. He saw the large vampire enter and then pass right in front of the packing cases where he kept his vigil He seized his chance and jumped lightly down behind his Sire.

"How much do you love your life, Angelus?"

The threat was implicit in the stake that the dark haired vampire could feel against his back.

"At the moment? I'm thinking it's pretty shit. There again, how much do you love the child?"

Spike finally noticed the lump under his shirt and wondered how he could have missed that warm beat of humanity that seemed to light up the dark space. Their uneasy stalemate was drawn up, defined by the stake in the back of the vampire and the knife at the throat of the child.

"Love? Don't even know the brat." Spike replied indifferently.

"You're not fooling me."

Spike considered for a second.

"There's a way out of this." He offered.

"Go on."

"Give me the baby and I won't kill you. I'll haul you in and hold you until Willow can re-soul you."

"So Hobson's choice. Captivity or death."

"Which is it to be?"

"Your position is strong, but you're weak. I don't think you could really kill me or kill Angel." He made a slight gesture with his hand and momentarily the knife was no longer resting against the baby's throat. "You're too…"

Spike took advantage of the only opportunity he might have and thrust the stake home, prepared to snatch the baby from the falling ash. Angelus' knife hand whipped back to the baby, as Spikes' arm shuddered under the impact. Spike gasped and leapt back. His stake had not plunge home. It had met a barrier and shattered.

"Might not have thought you'd do it, but came prepared anyway. A lead shield over the heart, back and front." Angelus tapped his chest so that the dull thud of the lead barrier could be heard. "Seems like I hold all the cards again, Spikey."

Spike dropped to his haunches and bowed his head.

"What is this then? This charade? What was the point?"

"I needed to know if you would find the strength to kill me." Angelus stepped back and watched him carefully.

"Why?" Spike screwed up his eyes as though he could find the answers writ large if only he could look closely enough.

"If you did it, then I knew I'd be out of bargaining chips was. Except for this final one I saved for emergencies."

"There is nothing left for you to bargain with. You made me confront what I was prepared to give up to bring you down. The answer is everything. I won't bargain with my life, body or soul. I won't bargain with the baby or Buffy or the slayers. And I won't bargain with Angel's life. I'll spend them all to see you dead or to see you souled."

"As I said, all out of bargaining chips. Save for one. You see, I don't want to go back to that old captivity and I don't want to die."

"There's nothing else for you. I won't let you wander free."

"I know it now. You've grown strong. Even when I think you're broken, spent, nothing left, you still find the strength for this." He indicated what was left of the splintered stake. "We could fight and I could escape but how long would I have? A month? A year?"

Spike nodded his head at the truth of this.

"We wouldn't rest until we found you."

"As you said earlier, there is another way."

Spike raised himself to standing and slowly circled the powerful vampire.

"So what's your idea?"

"It's simple. I want what you've got."

Spike look at him blankly.

"What I've got? What have I got?"

"Demon and soul in balance."

"A soul and a demon? That's what we're trying to give you, you pillock!"

"No! You have balance. Your demon isn't a captive, so you don't know what it's like. It's hell, Spike. Remember what Angel did to Pavayne? Locked away, having a window to the world but never able to affect it? That's what you condemn me to."

"You destroyed a world. I'd call it genocide, but it was worse, I don't think there' a word invented for what you did. If anyone deserves hell, it's you."

"So what do you want? To make the world safe from me for all time or some petty revenge?"

Spike was silent.

"The choice is yours."

Angelus put the knife away and tucked the baby back under his shirt. Spike was watched him carefully as he moved away and slouched against the wall, gently rubbing the baby's back, as though the decision meant nothing to him. He was a picture of cool nonchalance, except for his eyes, which were sharp and bright.

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I figure that the difference is that you asked for your soul, which is why you don't have the constant inner struggle. Your soul and demon accept each other."

"You're going to ask for a soul? I don't believe you."

Spike reached for his cigarettes and slowly lit one.

"So going for the old option. Hiding behind a fog of smoke and bravado?"

Spike refused to rise to the bait and instead let out a stream of smoke, which did indeed fog the air between them.

"Put the damned thing out. It's bad for your son."

Spike flinched slightly, so far he'd avoided thinking of the baby as anything to do with him. Another emotional lever was all he needed.

"Consider my choices." Angelus continued with a shrug.

"Uh huh."

"The slayers are closing in, somehow they know I'm here, I can hear a car screeching though the streets. We either move now or we play this to its conclusion. We fight. I kill the baby, maybe some slayers before I either run off, get captured or get killed. The worst scenario? The baby dead, Angel dead, your slayers scattered and mourning… Choose quickly, Childe."

"Me still alive?" Spike cocked an eyebrow,

"I was considering the worst scenario from your point of view."

Spike nodded his understanding. If Angel were truly gone, why the hell would he want to live? He didn't let his thoughts dwell on how he might feel if his son died.

"It wasn't easy winning a soul." He finally replied.

"I know. But I figure I'm owed."

Spike tilted his head. He could feel the genuineness of the words. Hell, he could smell sincerity, virtually taste it on his tongue.

"It's a long way to Africa."

"Mine is closer to home."

"Where do we have to go?"

"Back to L.A."

"L.A.! You think someone could have sent me the frigging memo!" Spike was miffed as though it somehow detracted from his epic journey. "Why should I trust you?"

"What else is there? I'm almost at the end of the line. At the moment I still have enough power to negotiate terms, later I may have nothing. Besides which, loneliness is the killer. Remember that Spike? You and Angel were talking and you said those words. Maybe I just don't want to be lonely."

"You were starting again. Rebuilding."

"How do you rebuild three hundred years? The only one left to me is Dru and she's not enough. You would have been, but you withstood me."

Spike shook his head and said softly, "I broke."

"Not wholly. Anyway you mended."

"Mended? Not wholly."

"You will. You're strong"

"You think?"

"Of course. You have me, Angelus, at your feet, asking for mercy. I've been tortured by the inquisition and spat in their faces. Their religious fervour was nothing to the strength of your self-belief."

"You could have killed the baby, tortured it and I would have broken completely."

Angelus looked suddenly shifty. Here was the root of it. He could have done that. At one point the decision could have gone either way. Then as he looked at Spike so close to defeat, he wasn't at all sure he wanted to live in a world that didn't hold his childe somewhere on its surface. Not that he could ever admit such a thing.

"I've already got one insane childe." He replied.

"Why didn't you just stake me?"

"Frigging hell, you're family. The only sane family I have left."

"Family like Darla? Penn?"

"Angel did that. Although I didn't object over much to Penn. Jeez, what an unimaginative idiot the boy was."

"I'm curious. Why did Angel never kill me?"

"You know why. He's weak and he loved you."

"Yet when I was trying to kill the slayer he hardly knew me or I him."

Angelus could have told him of the demon that Angel held within, rattling and wrenching at the bars that constrained him, screaming through his mind, promising to give him hell for the rest of their lives, promising to drive him insane with his fury, if he killed his boy. Then bombarding him with images of Spike. Spike laughing and gleeful, Spike looking distressed at some rebuff, wounded but bouncing up and fighting again. He had finally found the soul's weakness. The looks of endearing tenderness when Spike thought he wasn't being observed. The hidden poems. Angel particularly liked, An Ode to my Sire, no one had ever written poems for him. He'd wanted the laughing boy, the tenderness and the poems for himself.

"He knew you as I knew you. Saw you as I saw you and he wanted you."

Angelus could sense that Spike was swayed.

"He wants you, I want you and this is the way. You said once that you loved me. If that was ever true then give me this. Give me a soul on my terms."

"Is this really what Angel would want?"

"Before the soul left he was considering how to make it permanent. He was doing it for you. Because he wanted to be with you."

Spike looked doubtful, so Angelus continued.

"There's one other thing you should consider. I know something that the rest of the goody-two shoes need to know. If I die or if you wait for Willow to re-soul me it could be too late. There's something scary out there and honestly. The gang need to know, like now."

"I can feel your honesty twanging like a plucked string. Don't suppose you'll tell me now?"

"Right. Do I look like an idiot?"

"You want me to answer that?"

Angelus ignored him

"So, your decision?"

"Ok, let's do this. Leave the baby here for the slayers."

Spike tensed as Angelus gazed at the childe.

"It's sort of cute. All pink and squishy."

"Put it down."

"Do you want to see the child properly before we go?"

Spike glanced at it with disinterest.

"No. Put it down and let's go."

Angelus laid the baby down with surprising gentleness.

"Not exactly the doting father act I was expecting."

"It's nothing to do with me. I never asked for it. Never wanted it."

"Oh very p.c. Taking your responsibilities like a typical man, I see."

"You're right, I can hear the car and smell the slayers. Airport?"

"Car."

"Daylight soon."

"Still got the…"

"Course, where…"

"Outside."

They broke into a run and leapt into the waiting Viper.

6


	8. The Choice

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None

**_Summary: _**Willow and Angel have choices to make

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**The Choice**

"They were here. I can feel them."

"We've got something a bit more tangible than feelings, Ladies."

The baby was well wrapped and sleeping peacefully. Andrew picked him up, with a certain wonder.

"Spike's baby."

Giles came over and also peered at it.

"Thank god! Buffy's child." He breathed softly and then cleared his throat as emotion threatened to rise within him. He didn't know how he could have broken the news to Buffy, how he could have lived with himself... he blinked a couple of times.

It was the first time that Andrew had really looked at the baby properly.

"It looks just like…" Andrew's honesty won out "Well actually, nothing like Spike. Chubby cheeks, a squashed nose." The baby awoke and squinted at him. "Blue eyes though."

"All babies have blue eyes."

"He's quite cute. For a baby."

"Indeed, I believe he is a remarkably handsome chap."

"Would you like…" Andrew offered the baby to Giles and was rewarded with an engaging smile.

"Why thank you. I believe I would."

The slayers left the boys to coo over the baby.

"There's been a fight." Chris toed the splintered remains of a stake.

"So they fought and ran this way…" Erica tracked them, finding the odd foot print in the dirt.

"They went outside."

The skid marks were plain.

"And drove off at high speed."

"Spike wasn't being dragged or carried. That's his boot print, which indicates that he was running for the car as well. I haven't a clue what's happening but at least he's still alive and he's in a fit state to run."

"Thank God. When we found those instruments at the last place, it turned my blood to ice."

"Kirst was sick."

"So why is he running with Angelus now?"

The slayers considered this.

"Maybe he negotiated for the baby?"

"Seems that way. But what did he compromise on?"

"Do you think he agreed to join Angelus?"

"No, I don't."

"Then what?"

"I've no idea, I guess we just have to trust that Spike knows what he's doing and can handle it."

"I don't like that he ran from us."

They were silent. Neither of them liked it. Chris finally broke the silence.

"My guess is that Angelus struck a bargain with Spike but didn't trust us to honour it."

"Maybe not us personally." She nodded her head towards Andrew and Giles.

"There were just too many variables so he left."

"Ok. I can buy that, but now what?"

"I don't think he'd willingly go to Buffy, Spike wouldn't agree to that. But two of us should stay with her and the baby just in case there's some sort of double-cross in the air."

"We'll talk to Kirsty and Neesha, they may as well return to L.A. and we'll stay here."

Erica nodded her agreement before remembering something else.

"Did you notice the symbols on the walls of this warehouse?"

"Yeah. Weird. Magical maybe?"

"I'll phone Wesley and send him photos. It might be important."

"Ok. Let's head back."

Erica went inside and took a few photographs with her cameraphone, immediately sending them through to Wesley.

Chris made the call and reported back to Erica.

"We're on standby. Wesley has seen these markings before and said he'd be able to get a position on Angelus and Spike."

"Some good news at last."

"Yeah. You gotta admit we were due some."

They walked back to the two men.

"Ok, Fair Ladies. This is a setback. However, if the two of you would take the baby back to Buffy and remain on guard there, the rest of us will return to L.A. and we'll discuss our next move."

"Yes, Andrew." They replied obediently, as though that plan of action had never occurred to them.

"These symbols…"

"We've got Wes working on them. He thinks he knows how Angelus has been shielding and is hoping to get their position shortly."

"Oh. Very good. Uh, Giles would you care to return to L.A.?"

"I rather think I should go to Buffy. She may need me."

oooo

Dawn was beginning to brighten the sky and Spike had managed to maintain a stony silence thus far. There was nothing he wished to say to the other vampire. Angelus merely waited. He knew Spike couldn't keep up a silence for the whole trip. He hid a small smile as he his boy finally cracked.

"How far is it, anyway?"

"We'll be there by dusk. Sleep if you want."

"You must be kidding! "

I've had plenty of opportunities to kill you and you're still here."

"Not tired."

Spike turned the radio on and tried to keep his eyes open.

"And watch your bleedin' speed."

"Yeah? Like you do. Not."

"Wasn't talking about me. Angel wouldn't speed."

Angelus started to think about the insane decision he'd made.

"What will it be like? Living like you do? If I want to speed will I be able to? Or does it go for an internal vote or what?"

"Hell, I don't know. You just make an informed decision. Sometimes a particular action disgusts you more than it attracts you, other times you release the bad side."

Spike cocked his head to one side and looked at him with curiosity.

"Angel used to go into demon face, wasn't that you at all?"

"No. Well a little. But just a dog on a leash. Barking when I was told to bark and then muzzled and kennelled again."

"I'm not divided in half that way. It's a wonder you're as sane as you are."

"Jeez, watch yourself Childe. That was almost a compliment."

"Was it? I'll be more careful from now on."

"Here." Angelus tossed over some shades and put on a pair himself. The sun was beginning to rise and streaming through the necrotempered glass.

Spike looked at them carefully before pushing them on. The world immediately dimmed and he wondered why anyone would want todull the brightness. He nearly removed them and then decided that he probably looked damned cool.

"I wish I could see myself?"

""You look…" A pink tongue appeared as Angelus licked moistened his lips, "… shaggable."

Spike pouted slightly.

"Ok. You look like you've stepped off the front of a magazine cover, is that better? How about me?" He gave a wide smile.

"You look cheesy and smooth, like you're about to sell me a car."

"Yeah? Cool."

"Didn't mean it as a compliment."

Silence fell again and once more it was Spike who broke it, as his thoughts skittered around, like Bambi on ice.

"The last time we were on the road together we were in a horse drawn carriage."

"Yeah. How weird is that? Hey, this is our first road trip, shouldn't we be arguing about what music to listen to or something?"

"Well you're not insisting on Bach, which is always a bonus."

"And you haven't gone hunting through the airwaves for the Sex Pistols. It's not even music. It has no tune, no sense of order."

"Yeah, bloody fantastic isn't it? Total chaos, mindless violence and snarling anger."

"At least Manilow…"

"Don't even go there."

"Yeah, but…"

"I'm not listening to you cus, well I don't know how to break this to you, Mate, but you have absolutely no taste in music."

Angelus scowled.

"Yeah? Well, what's this we're listening too at the moment? Frigging maudlin crap."

He reached over to the radio and tore it loose, slinging it into the back.

"Country music. And you're right it is. Always thought you liked it, though."

"That was Angel. Music to brood to. So you hated it too?"

"Yeah… but I would've just changed the station." Spike rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it? Such a bleeding' drama queen."

"Ah well. Conversation is far more sociable than listening to the radio."

"Funny enough I'm not feeling particularly sociable. How long did you torture me for?"

"Obviously not long enough." Angelus muttered.

"Tell me, what the hell was all that torture crap about anyway?"

"Well you know, partly I just enjoy hurting you. I guess it's the same as how you enjoy stabbing Angel, oh no, sorry, blunt instruments is your preference, isn't it?"

"He knew I was kidding… sort of kidding."

"Partly because I wanted days like this."

"You wanted road trips?"

"Companionship. Family. Connection. Do all the things that vampire families do. Back one another up, hunt, have sex."

"Argue, fight , brawl."

"Well, yeah. That's part of it to. You'll do those things with me because you're not afraid of me. Everything I did to you and you gave me anger, sorrow and contempt. Never cowardice and never fear, gotta respect that. You're my equal, you beat me to that cup and sheesh I still can't believe you did that. Must have had an off day. Uh, what was my point again?"

"I'm your equal."

"Yeah. That's why Dru would never have been enough to hold me here. A companion has to be an equal and you're the only one I have. So I tried to win you around."

"Could have tried flowers and chocolates first. Well not flowers cus obviously, if you brought me flowers, I'd have to kill you. But chocolate's good. I like chocolate."

Angelus pulled a face.

"Jeez, Spike, that is so unnatural. You're a frigging vampire!"

"All the things you've done in your unlife and you complain cus eating chocolate is unnatural!"

"You just smiled at me."

"What? No I didn't!"

"You did. You like me. You luurve me." Angelus chuckled and cast a wicked glance from lowered his lashes.

Despite everything, Spike could hardly resist when Angelus was in such a playful mood, desperately he tried to hold back an answering grin.

"Sod you. I said that under duress and anything spoken under duress can't be held against a bloke."

"Got other things I could hold against you…"

Spike fell silent.

"What? Are you turning womanish on me Spike?"

"You wish." It was a half-hearted riposte. His thoughts were turned to other matters. "So when you ask for a soul, this'll mean no more curse then?"

Angelus nodded.

"And Angel can be happy or shag… you know if he wanted to?"

Another nod.

"Oh."

"If I'm gonna be a co-driver you can hardly expect me to be celibate can you?"

"So you can go off and find yourself another little blonde bint."

"Aye, I guess I will. Have to be someone who can match me in strength and stamina.

"Plenty of slayers to choose from now."

"Oh come on. They're children."

"Not for long. Time goes so quickly for us. Blink once and they're beautiful sirens."

"Blink again and they're middle aged."

"You were never ageist."

"I'm not and I've already got a little blonde in mind."

"You're gonna take Buffy aren't you? Like you took Dru?"

Angelus shook his head in amusement.

"Have you heard the homosocial theory?"

Spike stared at him.

"I guess that deer in the headlights look means 'yes'. Don't be coy, Childe, you know which blonde I'm talking of."

oooo

Wesley was worried. He'd spent the morning going through Council reports and pushed them away with a sigh.

"You know how we put out the word for slayers to question vampires before staking them? I'm getting some very odd information in."

"Odd? In what way?" Gunn asked.

"A decrease in supernatural activity. The most powerful beings appear to be leaving this dimension."

"Uh oh. Not good."

"Is there any additional data?" Fred asked.

"Just the normal 'something bad is coming' talk."

"Where are these reports originating from?"

"All over. Canada, Scotland, Siberia, Australia, New Zealand."

"The poles." Gunn said.

"No nothing from Poland." Wesley replied, skimming through his notes.

"Oh." Fred said with dawning understanding. "No, the reports are coming from the far North and the far South."

"Oh, those poles. Oh Christ! The World Eater."

"How can it be?" Gunn asked. "The White Witch has located it and is working on it. That is why she's been away so long, isn't it?"

"Yes, but surely this is too much of a coincidence?"

"Is there anything you can do to make it visible? Willow said that she could see it thrown across the sky like a web."

"I'll do my best. Damnation, I'm supposed to be taking away Angelus' protective runes and get a position on him, as well."

"Tell us what you need and we'll get everything in place whilst you research this." Gunn offered.

"Right. Yes." Wesley ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "I'll make out a list but it's basically the same as when we de-cloaked Lindsey."

"Yeah, I remember. Don't worry man. I'll deal with this part of it."

Wesley nodded his thanks and began to pull books out and leaf through them, whilst Fred and Gunn set up the other spell. They worked quietly, not daring to badger Wesley but casting anxious looks in his directions.

oooo

The drive continued, the sun rose and began to fall. The trip had been almost companionable with Angelus at his charming best and Spike already journeying away from the dark, bleak places, where he'd never been more than a tourist. The wanderer returned and like all travellers the memories of the places he visited were dimmed with each step he made towards home.

Angelus squinted into the sky and opened demon eyes to examine it more closely.

"Why you doing that?" Spike asked, curiosity finally getting the bettor of him.

"I guess we're nearly there, so you may as well know what's happening. Use your demon eyes, Childe, and look at the sky."

Spike did as he was told and saw a glowing mesh of lines criss-crossing the sky.

"What in hell is that?"

"The thing I released. One of the minions felt something icy graze past him when he was standing in front of the portal."

"When you cut that man's throat?"

"Just how did you get so well informed?"

"Got a vision. Saw it all."

"Oh. Anyway, I never meant it to get here. Thought it would move on and the witch would stop it before it got this far, but it slipped through somehow."

"Jesus, Angelus! It's been here all this time? I've gotta let Willow know."

"Here." Angelus tossed him a cellphone. "Call."

"You're letting me call?"

"I told you it was a mistake. Get the witch to stop it."

"I thought all this was to keep Red out of the way?"

"Things have changed now. I'm going for a soul, and do you know how it burns my mouth to say those words?" He licked around the inside of his mouth with distaste, as if the words still lingered and he could wipe them away.

"We're nearly there and even if she wanted to stop me there isn't enough time."

Spike picked up the phone with trembling hands and made the first contact he'd had with the outside world since his capture.

oooo

Andrew and the slayers returned, already gloomy and dissatisfied, they added to the oppressive atmosphere. Fred and Gunn escaped on to the roof. The day was passing quickly and they watched the fading sunlight, filtered through the haze of smog and pollution. Even that shimmering light held a strange, ethereal beauty. Fred squinted into the sky.

"Do you think it's there, Charles? Writhing above us, waiting to strike?"

The beautiful light suddenly took on a sinister aspect. Gunn shrugged.

"We'll find out soon."

She looked down on the city, all the shiny people in their shiny cars, ignorant of the danger that threatened. Charles had been brought up with vampires and demons, but she used to be like those folk once. Then there was Pylea and that being insane period. Now she was here, fighting demons, gods and apocalypse.

"What you thinking about?" Gunn asked.

"All those people living their lives. Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?"

"You'd rather be like that?"

"Oh no! I think I was born for this. If ever you see a blissful smile on my face give me a slap and a dose of reality."

Gunn laughed. "I can do that."

He stood up and reached out a helping hand.

"Come on. Guess we'd better see how English is doing."

They met Wesley as he emerged, waving a bit of paper.

"Ok. I think this may work."

"What is it?"

"It's a spell to reveal lines of power, Intended for leylines, magnetic fields and suchlike."

They followed him outside. The sky was dark, the normal Los Angeles haze obscuring their view. Wesley stepped forward and began a low chant. Nothing appeared to be happening.

"Reveal!" He commanded.

Before their eyes a shimmering net appeared, cast upon the sky and the world was caught within its toils, like a whale awaiting the strike of a harpoon. It was magnificent and dreadful in the same instance, gleaming strands of raw power, pulsating against a sullen, molten sky.

"Oh dear God." Wesley muttered. "There's no end in sight. Its been here for some time."

"How far is L.A. from the equator?"

"I'm not sure, but it runs through South America. Northern Brazil I believe."

"And how far do you think our horizon stretches?"

"Again, I've no idea but one thing I'm sure of. This is too damned close."

"You know, I think this must have come here at the same time the last world was destroyed." Fred said.

Gunn frowned in confusion.

"But hey, it moved on to Willow's dimension, didn't it?"

"You forget we're not dealing with a single entity. Willow thought it replicated itself. Supposing it does? Usually it would only have the strength to open one portal and move to one world."

"So what's different this time?" Gunn wondered.

"Do you remember when Spike had that vision? It wasn't exactly a vision. Angelus left the portal open and the sorcerer was pushing images into Spike's head as they happened."

Gunn was nodding.

"So you're saying as the world was destroyed the World Eater had access to an open door?"

Wesley nodded, wrinkling his brow and continuing with his line of reasoning.

"So it opened one portal and had access to another. Perhaps this thing makes numerous replicates of itself but because it only has enough strength to open one portal then normally only one pair can move on…"

"But this time, thanks to Angelus, the things had access to two dimensions."

"All this happened over three weeks ago. You realise that's approximately how long a world lasts before it's drained of life and power?"

Andrew appeared and waited for a second listening to their conversation.

"I can confirm your conclusions. Angelus has allowed Spike to call and warn us. The World Eater came through when Angelus set it loose, over three weeks ago."

There was no room for doubt and no need for further speculation. If Angelus was helping, then it was serious.

"We need Willow back here immediately and let's hope she's made some progress solving the problem. Fred, you set up an emergency communication channel, didn't you?"

"Yes. Uh. We never got a chance to test it, but in theory…"

"Time to test it." Wesley gave her a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine."

Fred nodded uncertainly.

oooo

" Willow? We need you." She called.

"Fred? I'm at a critical point. Please, this world hasn't got long. I either fix it in the next ten minutes or I lose it."

"It's an emergency. Angelus unwittingly released the virus to our world. It's been here as long as it's been where you are."

"But… I'm so close here and timing is critical. I can see it moving across, when it meets at the equator then it will feed and the world will be lost." Even through the link her anxiety was plain.

"Then you need to make a choice. It's happening on our world too. We can see it spread out in the skies above us. If that world has only minutes then in minutes we'll be gone."

Willow stilled, only her hair moved, flying in all directions from the immensity of the power that she was challenging.

She didn't really believe it, until she opened a portal above the Earth and looked down with horror. She prayed to her goddess as she realised that the two halves were about to meet. As they collided, the world shuddered. The wind fell, an unearthly silence filled the heavens and time itself appeared to stop.

Darkness fell like a droplet and rippled slowly through the air, sucking out warmth and life, leaving behind the deafening silence and the hollow creaking of a dying world. Willow's eyes darkened as she drew forth more power and attempted to hold back the darkness, but all in vain. It was too late. She could see the dead air pouring forth across the world like the icy exhalation of some malignant arctic god, freezing everything in its path, producing eerie imitations of life, sculpted from crystal. An ocean wave, its rolling gait immobilised in an instant. Spray and spume captured, reaching towards a curtailed freedom, freezing and falling, shattering like glass onto the newly emerging ice sheet.

Angelus had opened a gate just as the virus was at its most powerful, when it had devoured a world and was seeking a new victim. One part of it had spent its energy opening a portal to the next dimension. Another part had seized the opportunity of an easy exit to a new source of power. It had arrived, fully fledged with the full force of a voracious predator. It was stronger here than in that other dimension where she had spent her time working so diligently. Overconfidence and arrogance were often failings in clever people and she recognised she had these failings in spades. She'd been so sure that she was about to beat it, yet here it was, in the heart of her home world.

She cried out her warning across the world and all who had the power to hear turned their eyes fearfully to the sky, as the lattice work of power exploded into a rolling flash of white light. In seconds all her attempts to save another world were challenged into saving her own. All the preparations she had carefully made were utilised to this end.

Willow called upon the gods of a dead world, a dying world, her own world and demanded that they helped her. She stepped into the ruined dimension of Chi'lustra and opened portals, hundreds of portals that winked open to hundreds of thriving worlds. Their strength and vitality flooded through like sunlight through un-curtained windows. She channelled the enormous energy across the emptiness of Chi'lustra and opened a portal to Earth.

The parasite could sense power unlike anything it had ever felt before, pouring forth from the opened gate. The darkness stopped in its tracks, the destruction came to a halt and veered and spun through the gate, tempted away by the pulse of raw energy and overflowing life. It flew into Chi'lustra, glorying in the radiance of the power.

In a blink, Willow had slammed all the portals shut, cutting off the source of that immense life force that had called to the creature. She stepped back into her home world, sealing the door closed. The World Eater was left behind in darkness, tricked into an empty dimension that it had already drained. With no energy left to sustain it and insufficient power to open another gate it would slowly fade away and die.

She was home.

Everyone was staring at the sky, holding their breath and blinking in astonishment as the web of power withdrew in an instant. They turned, noticing her return. Her mouth was set in a thin angry line, her hair was still flying in all directions and her eyes were black. Gunn automatically took a step backwards.

" Willow! It worked, you did it!" Fred smiled at her.

She shook her head and her mouth trembled.

"No, I… I…"

Her eyes returned to their normal colour as the blackness drained away. Wracking sobs convulsed her body.

" Willow. Hush. Hush. You saved us." Fred said gently and gave her a reassuring hug.

Slowly her tears eased.

"It'll have moved on again by now. I left the other world to die and now it's in the next one. I killed that world as surely as…"

"No, you didn't. You tried to save it. Not a man or power could blame you for putting your own world first."

She straightened up.

"No. You're right, I'm not to blame."

Suddenly she had an Orb of Thesulah in her hand. She muttered an incantation and it began to glow with a soft golden light.

"But I know who is. He's killed two worlds and injured ours."

"Injured… it had begun here?" Wesley asked.

Willow nodded.

"I had no time to think, the darkness had begun to drain the world. Everything froze to its touch. It was over the oceans. Maybe the seas will melt again and living things will repopulate the deeps but it drew power from our world and that can never be returned. We live in a damaged world, Wes, with a new, partly formed ice sheet. I don't know what the consequences of that will be. I don't know whether humanity will survive it."

"Angelus did all that, just to keep you out of the way? I'm not sure if it's a kindness to bring Angel back to this sort of destruction and treachery. He mourns the lives that he has taken. But two worlds? I don't know if he will survive it."

"You know what? He'll have to try. I'm not having Angelus in this world a moment longer. Wesley you've been working on getting a fix on them?"

"Yes. We've been following his progress."

Andrew had been obsessively tracking them and made his report.

"He reached the outskirts of L.A., stopped moving and then he disappeared. It happened only minutes ago."

"Give me their last known co-ordinates." Willow demanded and Andrew pointed out the small 'x' he'd made.

"That's where they disappeared."

Suddenly she was gone. The only sign of her leaving was the sonic boom that echoed through the skies like a physical outpouring of her anger.

She stepped out and found herself overlooking an empty pool. Her eyes narrowed , she could see the tell-tale sign of a portal at the base of the pool. Without another thought she jumped through.

oooo

Spike had recognised the hieroglyphics painted on the inside of the car.

"That's why we couldn't find you. Weird. I thought Wesley had tested for them."

"Adapted from Lindsey not just a straight copy. He'd actually have to see them before he could counteract them."

"Well I think someone has caught a glimpse of them then, Mate."

Angelus glanced across and saw that the symbols were gradually melting away.

"They found the warehouse, I had them painted on the walls there. It changes nothing. We're where we need to be."

"Seems a bit suburb-ish for the home of a powerful demon."

Angelus stopped the car and together they walked towards an empty and abandoned pool.

"Not very impressive, is it? It lacks atmosphere. Now Africa… with the heat and the drums, you just knew something momentous was gonna happen."

They stood on the edge of the pool and both of them looked down.

"Ok. What we looking at?"

"It's down there. We have to jump through."

"Uh. Hold up. That looks like a concrete base to me…"

"Leap of faith, Spike." Angelus called as he plunged through the air, his coat billowing out around him.

"Angelus!" Spike watched him disappear. "Oh bleedin hell."

On those inspiring words he followed his sire down.

He landed heavily, stumbled and rolled. Muttering under his breath he got to his feet, brushed himself down and took stock of his surroundings.

Angelus was confronting a… butler. And wasn't that frigging typical. He got Lurky, the creature that frightened the crap out of hell spawned demons and Angelus got a goddamned butler!

"You didn't give me Darla. I completed the trials and you couldn't complete your side of the bargain."

"We gave you a son instead. You have been given a life in return and the bargain was complete"

"Oh come on, don't give me that crap! Connor? You know and I know that he was here because Jasmine wanted it. I never asked for a son, never wanted a son and certainly don't see having one foisted on me as sealing the deal. You still owe me."

"Foisted on you? Very p.c."

"Shut up, Spike."

"It took a great deal of power to raise a human son from two vampires. We consider our side was fulfilled and the whole matter dealt with."

"Really? I'll take this one to the judges themselves! Being denied the life I asked for and then trying to fob me off with that poor substitute is not acceptable. If your master wished to face the judges and lose his head that's up to him."

The butler's face went blank for a second.

"Ah. My master takes your point, Sir. Perhaps there are some small points outstanding between us. So you wish to complete the bargain now?"

"Yes. I do. I wish…."

Suddenly Willow appeared in front of them, the shining Orb held out before her.

Angelus immediately realised what was happening.

"No! Don't curse me, witch! There's no need. Spike, stop her…"

"Why? What's the panic? You said that Angel wanted to make his soul permanent? Even if she curses you, Angel can still make the same request."

"No, you don't understand! He wants you, Spike. But he won't choose you. He'll abandon you! He won't ask for a permanent soul, which means he won't allow you to stay. He won't choose you!"

But Spike had blind faith in Angel.

"I trust him to do what's right." He said confidently.

"Spike! My Childe…"

Willow didn't stop chanting and suddenly the globe went dark, a light flashed from the dark vampire's eyes and a lingering scream echoed around the chamber as the demon was imprisoned again.

Angel looked around.

"What is your wish?" The butler intoned, as though nothing had occurred.

Spike stared at Willow and then back at Angel. He took in Angel's confusion and quickly prompted him before the butler changed his mind again.

"Angelus was about to ask for the demon to coexist with the soul. Making the soul permanent, like mine."

He gave a slight smile, welcoming Angel back.

Angel looked at him, frowned and blinked.

Spike dropped his head, as he understood that Angelus was right. Angel wouldn't choose it. Wouldn't choose him. Never had and never would.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"Angel…" Spike pleaded.

"You have to understand!"

"Understand? Sure, I understand completely. Oy? Jeeves? I want out."

The butler waved a hand and Spike was standing next to the Viper. He took out a cigarette and conjured up another defensive screen.

"What is your wish, vampire?" The butler intoned again. "You want your soul returned and made permanent?"

"No. I want a life returned as though it had never been taken. The life I wish to have returned is the sorcerer of Chi'lustra, whose throat I cut."

The butler nodded his head.

"It is done, the death never occurred and our business is complete. The master wishes that you leave now and do not return."

Angel found himself standing next to Spike. He didn't know what to say. He'd put to rights one of the wrongs that Angelus had done. He'd had no choice in the matter, couldn't have lived with that destruction. But in front of him was the other wrong, the one Angelus had promised to fix and that he, Angel, had betrayed.

"Spike…"

"S'ok."

"I had no choice."

"I understand. You saved the sorcerer, yeah?"

Angel nodded.

"So all the worlds have been set aright, you're back and all's well."

Again Angel nodded.

"Where's Red?"

"She left."

Spike shrugged and ground out his cigarette.

"Ok then. Get in. I'll drive us home."

Angel did as he was told, his head bowed, as they travelled in silence.


	9. Goodbye to You

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**None for this chapter

**_Summary: _**Angel and Spike prove that they can't stay together

* * *

**Chapter 9 **

**Goodbye to You**

Spike drove through the familiar streets.

Almost home.

He glanced across at Angel, his dark head still bowed. He hadn't moved throughout the journey, hadn't said another word. Spike himself was all out of words. Nothing that either of them could say really. He swung the wheel and the headlights arced around, the bright beam moving across the high walls and illuminating the gates. Spike no longer had his key fob.

"Open up, luv."

The dark haired vampire looked up and finally noticed where he was. He dug into a pocket and the gates opened, throwing wide welcoming arms as they once again entered its loving embrace.

They pulled up in front of the house. Spike got out, slouching towards the house, kicking his toes through the gravel as he walked, his mind preoccupied with other thoughts. He heard a noise behind him and looked back to see the dark figure slumped against the hood of the car.

Angel started as he felt hands moving against his face. Brown eyes were caught by blue and held.

"Hey. Don't luv. S'ok, everything will be ok." Spike trailed his fingers through the soft brown hair.

"I couldn't do anything else, Spike."

"Yeah. I know. I was being a pratt." Spike sighed softly.

"No. You don't know. How can you? I wanted to choose you. Wanted to just say; jeez, to hell with it all."

"Angel, I know. I understand. I held a frigging stake to your heart and tried to push it in! I understand, yeah? Come on, let's go inside."

The two tired vampires made their way inside, each lost to their own broken thoughts.

"So what do we do now?" Spike asked helplessly as they lingered in the hallway.

"Sleep on it. We'll discuss it in the morning."

"Sleep? What together?"

"I guess. Why?"

"No reason."

'…just that last time I lay next to you I awoke to find you gone.'

Angel seemed to hear this unspoken addendum and sighed.

"I'm tired and can honestly say that I'm not going to be feeling perfectly happy anytime soon."

"I get that."

They made their way to bed in silence, laid next to each other in silence. Angel thought of everything Spike had endured and useless tears began to prickle behind his eyelids. He hated his large hands for the pain they'd inflicted. Hated his mouth for the words it had uttered.

"How can you stand to even look at me?" He whispered.

"Cus I love you. I bloody love you." Spike whispered back, staring hard, trying not to blink for fear his eyelids sweeping down would cause a flood and he'd drown in it.

Angel heard the words and sensed the unshed tears. He wanted to pull Spike to him and whisper all those endearments he'd never shared with anyone before. Comfort him and tell him all would be well. Hold him so frigging close he'd melt into the very pores and become part of him. Yet despite Spike's words, he couldn't bring himself to believe his touch could be welcome, so he lay there and listened to the silence.

Spike wanted comfort but couldn't bring himself to ask for what he needed. He lay there until extreme weariness finally overcame him.

oooo

He awoke with a jolt and turned around quickly, breathing out in relief when he saw the lump under the covers. The lump had eyes, which were watching him closely. Spike noticed the time and swung his legs out of bed preparing to rise. A hand snuck out from the covers and grabbed his wrist.

"Stay." The lump not only had eyes, it also spoke.

"Just thought I'd better call in. They'll know we're back. They'll be worried."

"I've phoned in. Said we needed time."

"I'm ok."

"You slept badly."

"Did I?"

"Yeah."

"You've watched me all night?"

"Tried to, but my eyes closed in the end."

"Poof."

Spike smiled and reached out to cuff him gently, it became more of a caress and he left the back of his hand resting against the cool cheek. Angel closed his eyes to savour the touch. Now it was Spike's turn to watch. Even when the eyes were shut and he couldn't see the soul shining out, he felt he'd still know this was Angel.

"What did you wanna do, I mean if we're not throwing ourselves back into the maelstrom of life."

"I thought a few hours peace. Feels like we've hit the eye of the storm at the moment, just want to enjoy it for a while."

He tentatively slid his fingers down from the wrist to the pale hand. Spike watched him and gave a half smile, swinging his legs back under the covers and nestling back into his pillows, enjoying the way Angel playfully touched his fingers. It made his want to touch back, but he was uncertain of how things were between them and instead sighed and took refuge in a deluge of words.

"I can't believe I'm lying in bed and holding hands. It's poofy. It's unnatural and far too sweet, maybe even verging on icky."

Angel smiled and teased him gently. "Like chocolate?"

"Yeah. No. I mean chocolate is…"

"Bad for your teeth?"

"Whereas this is just bad for my image."

"And who do you think is gonna see you?"

"You never know, those bloody slayers probably have cameras down here."

"Yeah? Interesting. Wish we could give them something more entertaining to watch."

"Angel!" Spike's eys widened in shock.

"What? You're always saying things like that."

"Yeah, but it's normal for me to think like that."

"Just cus I don't say it doesn't mean I'm not thinking it."

"Well, I'm just downright shocked!"

"One day I'll get this damned curse sorted out and then I'll shock you."

"Yeah? Do a Richard Gere and come sweep me of my feet?"

"Maybe."

"To think you used to worry that people would think you were gay."

"Do you really think it bothered me?"

"You were kidding?"

Angel laid back and studied the ceiling, whilst still maintaining contact through their hands.

"Just a way to keep from admitting anything. Keeping it light so I didn't have to pine way for something I could never have."

"Oh. It's sorta hard to believe, you wanting me… you choosing me. It's always been Darla, Dru or Buffy."

"Yet through it all you were there like my guilty little secret." He saw Spike's face. "Hey, no. That's not how I saw you. I meant…"

"Don't stress it, Peaches, yeah?"

Spike looked coolly indifferent but Angel would never forget the look that had first been on his face and realised that Spike bore older scars than he'd ever realised. And eventually he would remove every single one of them. All the effort that Angelus put into breaking him would be nothing to the effort Angel would use to make him whole.

"There's no hiding anymore. If ever I do get a permanent soul I'll announce you to the world. I'll take time off work, cut the telephone lines, lock the doors and not let you out of this bed for a week. I'll make up a hundredfold for each pain I gave you."

Spike felt a sudden heat sweep over his body and he wasn't sure if he was growling or purring.

"You're being very vocal for a taciturn vampire." He finally said.

Angel saw the way his blue eyes peeped out from under a veil of lashes and was moved by his exquisite shyness.

"You know what? To hell with taciturn." Angel rolled on to his side, their bodies almost touching. "Time's short, Spike and I want you to be in doubt, no doubt at all, how I feel about you. You told Angelus that you thought I might love you. Did you ever doubt it? If you did I want to make sure you never doubt it again. It crept up on me, almost without me noticing, but here it is and it's not going anywhere. I love you. I'm in love with you, I want you, I need you and when I look at you I never want to look away."

Spike tried to moisten his dry lips, as though the burning heat within had left him parched. Angel watched his pink, catlike tongue with a curiously hungry look.

"Uh… maybe if I'm really bad, I can make you unhappy?" He asked hopefully. "And then we can stay together."

"There's nothing you can do that would make me unhappy."

Spike thought about it for a while.

"Supposing I whore around a bit."

"Then I'd have the pleasure of killing everyone who touched you."

"Hope you're joking, Peaches. If I can't have you, I mean, you know, well I can't be celibate either. That really is unnatural."

"I guess I was kidding. I know it's nothing, just a way of passing time. I guess I'd do the same."

"Oh."

"Now what?"

He studied the forlorn eyes. Sometimes he could look so lost and vulnerable.

"If you did that, you might find someone you liked more than me."

"I suppose I might." Angel replied thoughtfully, as he entwined their fingers together. "That was Angelus' plan for a while."

"Those men that looked like me?"

"Yeah. None of them were good enough for him. Hell, they never even came close. Then when he thought you were fading from this world he went to find a soul because he wanted to keep you."

"Bollocks. He did it because he was out of options and he didn't wanna be contained again."

"I've sort of got him inside me, Spike. He made the choice, a piece of this body and the whole of you or the whole of this body and you gone forever."

"He's trapped again, isn't he? He bloody hated it. I think he'd rather be dead."

"You're sorry for him, after all he did?"

"I know I shouldn't be but…"

"You love him."

No reply and Angel's eyes darkened with anger and confusion.

"How can you? Do you enjoy being hurt? Do you like being used? I've heard of having sympathy for the devil but this… Jesus, just tell me why!"

"You wanna know why? He's you, Angel. His character, his traits. You wear a soul or you wear a demon but underneath it's all just you."

Angel's anger suddenly left and he felt deflated.

"Its true isn't it? I mean, it's hard for me to see. He's caged again and subdued at the moment but I hold him inside and he is something separate. But in a way he belongs here even more than I do. I'm not whole. You were right; it's amazing that I'm as sane as I am."

"You're doing well, Pet."

"Anyway, all I was trying to say is that the reason he wanted a soul was for you because in his own twisted and evil way he cared for you. You know the choice he made. And I tell you; I love you more than that demon ever could. So what do you think? Am I gonna find someone to replace you?"

Spike looked down again with that curious bashfulness and Angel realised that he wasn't used to hearing words of love.

"I guess it would be ok, you know… if you found someone to shag occasionally. Not exactly happy about it."

"Not exactly making plans here."

"When do you want me to go?"

"Hey? You don't have to be the one to leave. I can move out..."

"Nah. Why should you? This was your city long before I ever turned up here. Your city, your friends. Whereas me? I'm kinda rootless. If I'm not with you then it don't really matter where I am cus it won't be home."

"We'll stay in touch."

"I 'spect I'll still be getting visions, so I'll have to call you or something. Do you know how to chat on the internet?"

"I'll learn."

"Get Fred to set you up with a webcam, then I'll be able to see you every day."

"You get one too?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you think you'll go?"

"Ain't thought about it yet."

"Maybe we could give it a try here first?"

"Angel?"

"Hmmm?"

Spike was gazing at him and there was no shyness left in those eyes. As inexperienced as he was at receiving love, there was nothing anyone could teach him about giving it.

"When I look at you, all I want to do is touch."

"Uhh, yeah.?" He cleared his throat, nervous under that steady gaze.

"Yeah."

A cool hand reached out. A nail dragged gently over his bicep and the touch sparked electricity through his body. Everything else faded away and all he could feel was that molten touch, all he could hear was the slight whisper of nail on skin. Everything in him yearned towards that point of contact. His skin, his blood, his very being, started and ended at the point of a stubby nail. He half closed his eyes and watched the pale hand, willing it to spread over his flesh. Take it. Own it.

"Spike." He breathed.

"You feel so smooth. Your skin feels like satin to my touch, I could spend the whole day just stroking your skin."

Spike's voice was like sand, borne on the heat of the desert wind. It blasted through his body and left him raw.

Lips moved to his shoulder and zephyr like, unneeded breath caressed his skin.

"Spike." The word was a low moan, almost not a word at all.

"God, Peaches. When you say my name like that I can't bloody help myself."

The words were mumbled into his shoulder, sending small vibrations through him and as the sentence ended, Spike moved over his shoulder and his chest with open mouthed kisses, tonguing his skin, taking in the scent and taste of his sire. His hand fanned out over where the beating heart should rest, Angel felt as though he was reaching inside and curling his hand around it, like a surgeon massaging it back to flickering life.

He was lost in a boneless sprawl. He felt warm and human and vulnerable. Butterflies were fluttering crazily inside and internal muscles twitched and clenched in sympathy. He could feel the tickle of sweeping lashes as Spike blinked against flesh sensitised to every touch. He was breathing as though he needed it and all he could smell was Spike. Smoke that caught and tangled in his hair, sweet skin, Aurelius blood that called to him like home, overlaid with the hot scent of sex, warming him, melting him to he bone. Compliant and pliable, his body was clay and it was being moulded and shaped to Spike's desires. For so long Angel had existed on so little and this overwhelmed him, he was shaking to each touch, each breath and yet still he wanted more, his flesh cried out for more sensations. More touch, more scents, more tastes, more sounds. More Spike.

The questing mouth moved to a hardened, ready nipple and the first touch of his tongue caused Angel to throw his head back as sensation zinged through his body, curling his toes, hardening his body, making his heart jerk with life.

"Is it good, luv?" Spike smiled up at him

"It's… You're…" He looked tenderly at his childe. "You're beautiful."

Spike moved across his chest and hovered over his other nipple. Angel tensed awaiting that electric touch, the stab of desire that flared and pulsed though him as nerve ending buzzed against nerve ending, until his whole body was alive and sparking.

"Don't stop… touch me. Please…"

"Are you happy?"

Angel took his hand and brought it to his lips and sadly he nodded.

"Yeah. You make me feel special. You kinda make me feel beautiful."

Spike laughed.

"Beautiful? I'm trying to show you that you're bloody gorgeous!"

"You're showing me that we can't even try, aren't you? I'm with you. I'm happy. That's all there is to it and I'm sorry. So sorry."

"Don't be. Knowing I make you this happy kinda makes it easier… to leave."

"Not yet though."

"How long can we live like this?"

"You've been through too much. You're not going until you're recovered."

"You know me, Peaches, I always bounce back."

"We need to talk."

Spike sat back again.

"Go on then, Pet. You start."

"I… Angelus said a lot of things to hurt you. Lies and part truths. He looked inside my memories and a found a hundred years of angst, dark, worming questions about why I fight and why I should even bother to try to keep my integrity when I fight."

"Did you find answers then?"

"Yes. I faced the questions and I answered them."

"That's ok then."

Angel's brow gave a few confused wrinkle.

"It is? I mean how… why?"

"I trust you, Peaches. If you tell me there are logical answers to these things, I believe you and if ever I face Angelus again, his arguments will mean nothing, water of a duck's back. It's enough that you tell me its right, so nothing will sway me from thinking otherwise. Every time he puts his arguments forward I can laugh in his face and tell him I believe what I do cus Angel knows that it's right."

Angel looked at him and slowly began to laugh.

"Have I told you that I love you?"

"No. Tell me again."

"I love you, Childe. And if ever Angelus does reappear you'll drive him insane with those answers. But one day promise me you will sit down and think about these things, about right and wrong and everything in between. It's not something that can be taught but rather something that one day suddenly clicks into place for you, it's important that you know these things for yourself."

"Just not now eh? Too much philosophy does my head in. So anything else we need to talk about."

"Your son."

"Yeah? Nothing much to say, really."

"Spike! You have a child and it's a miracle!"

"And I'm trying to say that I don't care. Told you. It's nothing to do with me. I never asked for it."

"I sort of thought that was just a line for Angelus. How can it not move you? It was Buffy's gift…"

"You know what? She had no right to do that. She had no right, Angel!"

Angel looked in astonishment at Spike's anger and distress.

"What's the matter?" He wished he could use endearments like Spike always did. He felt strange even thinking of using pet names but he so wanted something more tender than Spike or Childe. "Hey? Spike…? What's wrong?"

Spike turned away so that all Angel could see was his pale back and bowed head.

"I almost hate her for that. How could she? I could have coped, I could have managed and then he came up with the sodding baby! I didn't believe it. Didn't think she'd do something like that without asking, without even mentioning it!"

"She didn't mean…"

"Somehow I'd have found a way but suddenly there was no time. He had her baby in his hands and I staked him. I staked you. Thought I'd killed you. I thought I'd bloody killed you, Angel, and I hate them both for it."

His shoulders were shaking and Angel found himself blinking back tears of sympathy. All that time he'd held together, been so strong and _now_ he cried. He moved behind and pulled him back to his chest, letting lips nuzzle into his hair, whilst his hand moved soothingly over silky skin.

"Spike. Baby. Sweetheart. It's ok. You had to do it and I'm proud, so proud of you. No one's fault. Not yours, not hers and not the baby's. She was trying to do something good for you and one day you'll realise how good it can be."

"So hard, keeping my mind blank so that I could do it. Then I shoved it towards your heart and I didn't know if it was me or the stake that lay shattered on that floor."

"You're a champion, and I know it's not easy but you did what needed doing and I am so damned proud of you."

"Don't be. I would have killed you and whenever I think about it I want vomit up my guts or curl up and die."

"It'll pass, my love. Promise you it will."

"I wish I could stay, you make sense of everything."

"Don't you know you're the strong one? You take the knocks, square your shoulders, stand tall and howl at the world. You'd challenge the devil himself, if that's what it took."

"Sometimes I get afraid that I'll wake up too tired to even try."

"Believe me, love." He kissed Spike's hair and drew in the smoky halo that surrounded him. "You don't know how to give up, well not for more than a few minutes. It pisses you off so much that someone should get the better of you that you can't help getting up and challenging the world again."

"Peaches?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me 'Love' again? Call me Sweetheart. Call me Baby."

"Did I say those things?" Angel frowned.

"Yeah. Say them again."

"Anything you want, Baby."

oooo

They met up with everyone the following day. It felt surreal. Their friends walked on glass attempting to act normally, yet still ended up being touchy and fragile. Sentences that halted in the middle as they accidentally touched on something painful Sympathetic and pitying with Spike, awkward and sympathetic to Angel.

"Good to have you back, Angel man. I'm sorry, it must be hard for you, considering the things you've… good to have you back." Gunn quickly plastered a smile over his face and Wesley moved up to support him.

"It all turned out in the end, considering…" Then he too stopped as he thought of all the people Angel had killed or turned. That was without taking into account what he'd done to Spike.

"And Spike." Gunn continued regardless. "You survived."

"That's me. I'm a survivor." Spike agreed.

Fred handled it the best giving them both a heartfelt hug and then chatting about the things they'd done to try to find them, yet even this was filled with self-recriminations. Pleased to have them back, but guilty that they themselves achieved so little. Spike had freed himself and Angel had the ingenuity to save the worlds. So they congratulated Angel and asked Spike almost continuously how we was, until the vampires could stand it no more and slipped away into the night.

"Do me a favour, please?" Angel pleaded. "Have a vision and get everyone working again. I can't take much more."

"I know what you mean. I'm almost glad I'm leaving. The next person to ask me how I'm doing… you're the fount of morality, would I be allowed to bite them?"

Angel gave it some serious thought.

"I think in certain situations a small nip could be allowed."

"Oh. So best not to tear their throats out then?"

"We'll see. If Wesley says one more time…"

Spike smiled at him.

"You've changed, Peaches. I mean you were always kinda funny but now…"

"You found me funny?"

"Well, duh!"

"I always thought no one got my humour. Every time I cracked a joke they'd all reach for the stakes and holy water."

"Shame on them. What's life if you can't take the piss out of it occasionally?"

"Guess they had their reasons. I wasn't exactly happy when I came to L.A. the only time they saw me smile was when I became Angelus."

"Ok, s'pose they had their reasons to be a bit twitchy then."

"Why were you never afraid of him?"

"Wouldn't give him the bloody satisfaction."

Angel smiled at the explanation.

"He respected that."

"Yeah?"

They were silent for a while and Spike struck up a match and lit a cigarette.

"Buffy's recovered and they're letting her out of hospital tomorrow. She's coming here to see us. To see you."

"So she's well?"

"Slayer recovery, I guess. She wants you to meet your son properly."

"Look I've got stuff to do. Meet you later, yeah?"

Angel felt worried but if Spike needed space and time to prepare, who was he to object?

oooo

The phone rang.

"Your wish has come true. Vision. Just off Hollywood Boulevard. There's a shop, black and white slatted blinds, two vamps gonna bite into a girl."

"Ok. I'll meet you there?"

"I'm kinda knackered. Only two of them, you, Wes and Gunn can handle it, yeah?"

Angel smiled at Spike actually admitting to being tired.

"No problem. See you later."

"Yeah. Goodbye, Peaches."

Everyone was relieved to be out working, it cleared the air and gave them a more normal topic of conversation. But Angel was uneasy without being able to say why. He was about to drive across to find the girl, when something struck him.

"Can you two handle a couple of vamps do you think?"

"Probably. Why what is it Angel?"

"Something else has come up and I have to go."

"Well…" Wesley saw his face and nodded. "We'll be in touch."

Angel drove up to the house and found Spike standing in the hallway.

"Spike."

"Half thought you might turn up."

"It was the 'goodbye'. You couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

Spike nodded.

"I've decided where I'm going."

"Where?"

"Back to England."

"England? But why? I mean, America is a big place, you could move somewhere in America."

"Cus I want to be somewhere familiar. I understand English people and they get me. Every time you drop a sarky comment here their faces drop like bleedin' kicked puppies. In England they know how to take it and give it, they're quicker, tougher, wittier."

"But… it's so far away."

"I just need to be somewhere, where I'm not something strange. Where I'm accepted."

"You're accepted here!"

"When you were gone Wesley acted like I was you, Gunn tolerated me, Fred… well she's Fred and I love her, and she's the exception that proves the rule. And the general rule is they don't really accept me."

"I do."

"Yeah, you do. But I can't be with you."

"So you're going back to England where people 'get' you?"

"You don't understand because you fit in here. You look like an ex-jock and everyone you meet loves you. Buffy, Cordelia, Fred, Wesley, even Gunn warmed to you."

"People have loved you too."

"No. They want me. That's something else entirely."

Angel sighed. Spike was wrong.

"If you want love, you're running in the wrong direction. Your son would love you with an open hearted innocence."

Spike looked down and said nothing. Angel had a dawning understanding.

"You're not mourning because nobody loves you, are you? You're running away in case they do. In case you begin loving back."

"If you love people you give them a weapon to hurt you with. You give enemies a sword to use against you."

"So you'll runaway, cut yourself off?" Angel asked and grieved because this was a new scar, Spike had never been afraid to love before. He didn't have the heart to pursue it further. It was he who had done this to his loving childe, made him fear to get attached or to get involved.

"Whereabouts in England are you heading for?"

"Back to London. Still got the house that I had when I was human. It's been on short lets. Current one coming to an end, at least it's a bit familiar."

"You'll be happy there?" Angel asked but knew it didn't matter. All Spike wanted was an anonymous city, where he could live without connection and without love.

"Happier than anywhere else I can think of."

"When are you going?"

"Got my bag all packed."

"What your jeans, black tee and red shirt?"

"Yep. It took me hours."

"You want me to drive you?"

"Nah. I'll grab a taxi. Go back to your friends. I'll call."

"Spike…"

They leant their foreheads together and stayed that way for a minute until Angel drew him into a hug.

There was nothing of sire and childe in the touch. No yearning for blood or the sharp pain of the bite. They'd had enough of both. It was just two people in love, enjoying the closeness, savouring the touch and the scents, committing them to memory to be brought alive during lonelier times, when fate had dragged them apart again.

"I knew the road wouldn't be easy but I thought you'd be by my side."

"Yeah. Me too."

"It's ok. It's enough to know you're somewhere in this world."

Spike stepped out of his arms and Angel trailed a thumb along his cheek, looking for the last time into over bright eyes.

"Can't stand long goodbyes. I'll call, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He walked away, bag over his shoulder, coat flowing around him, striding confidently into the night. Angel watched long after he'd disappeared from sight, the departing figure branded in his eyes.

TBC


	10. Returning Life

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Summary: _**Spike and Angel find healing in some unexpected places.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Returning Life**

It was like a flash bulb going off in the dark.

Flash!

Eyes blink. Vision returns.

Red blood dripping down pristine walls.

Flash!

Eyes blink.

Open to darkness.

Angel awoke from yet another nightmare feeling more weary than when he'd laid his head down.

He rubbed the side of his head and moved his leaden body to the shower. Another long, hard day awaited him. Water streamed down his face as he turned it towards the warmth. Really they expected too much of him. Yet it was his choice to throw himself back into work, so he could hardly complain if he felt sometimes as if he was drowning. He turned under the water, letting it pummel his back. He thought they might have noticed. Spike would have, he'd have slapped them over the head, called them idiots and told them 'look, not waving, but drowning'.

Sometimes he got so tired of being grown-up and mature. They looked to him as children to an adult. He realised he was being unfair, but here he was, trying to fix things for Spike and fix things for his humans. He'd been through something harrowing as well, and he didn't see anyone rushing around trying to fix him. As usual, any urge towards self-pity transformed into guilt and he merely redoubled his efforts and sank further into his work.

But his distress had not gone unnoticed. Unable to burden Spike with anything more they tried to help in their own way. Wesley kept him busy with work and tried to make it clear how much they valued his strength, his wisdom, his extensive knowledge. Giles thought it important to prove that they still trusted and esteemed him, and asked him to step back into slayer training. The agency found that it was unable to run for more than a few hours without his presence being required. Without words they tried to show that he had been missed and that he was needed.

He wasn't Spike though. Spike would see a situation through by throwing himself into action and crowding out intrusive thoughts with violence and adrenalin. Angel, however, needed time to think, to internalise all that had happened, process it until he once again found his balance. All their efforts to keep him busy were merely making him tired and keeping him permanently off balance. He was sleeping badly and felt weary.

Buffy's visit hadn't exactly helped matters. For the life of him, he blamed her for nothing and the baby was so obviously innocent… He'd done his best, he'd smiled at the baby, he'd welcomed Buffy, apologised and sympathised. Only one comment had slipped past him. Irresponsible. He'd told her she'd been irresponsible.

Her eyes had hardened and with a tight smile she'd told him that jealousy wasn't his colour. He'd turned away because the only words he had for her were bitter and hurtful. Jealous! Was he jealous? He hardly knew. Maybe a little envious of everything that Spike was being offered. On the other hand he would rather she sent him to hell again than ever suffer a loss like Connor. He understood Spike's reluctance to bind himself emotionally to such a fragile being.

They'd made up again, both apologised but neither actually gave ground to the other. Buffy announced her attention of going to London to force Spike to face his son, and Angel had finally admitted how damaged Spike was.

"He hates me?" She'd asked and her eyes had grown luminous. This was so far from her intention she could hardly comprehend it.

"He's not himself. I'll call you, we will work this out. I promise."

She'd nodded and they had hugged, parting on something like good terms.

oooo

Spike's problems lay in another direction altogether. He was bored, which meant he couldn't escape thoughts that paraded in a wearisome, circular motion, a continuous loop that would keep him awake, leaving him drained and irritable, whilst resolving nothing.

He was thankful when Giles arranged for him to begin training with the English slayers, his contact being an old council member who escaped the explosion and had recently been drawn back into the fold. He looked on the vampire with suspicion and outright hostility. Not that it bothered Spike. It gave him someone to take out his permanently pissy mood on. The slayers were ok, he remembered some of them from the battle.

He still had the visions which he'd email or fax through. Sometimes during the night he and Angel would chat, hungrily absorbing jerky images on the screen. It all worked ok, considering. He missed nothing about his old life not the weather, not the gang, not his s… nothing, so he couldn't say why he felt like a personal rain cloud was hanging over his head.

Oh sod it.

He missed it all. He was lonely like he'd rarely been in his whole long life. It's what he had wanted, loneliness and anonymity but he gradually realised it didn't suit his temperament. He wasn't cut out to be alone.

Then one night, patrolling over with, the tinkle of jewellery from the theatre crowds had long receded and late night clubbers were drifting homeward, he was walking through the streets deep in thought, when someone hailed him, talking to him as if he were an old friend. He cast his mind back and realised it was a ghost from his human days.

"Will? Why didn't you tell us you were back? Hell you're looking good. Pale. But good."

"Uh. Yeah. Great to see you too. Only returned recently and yer know. Busy."

"Bumped into Mick, he said you went to L.A."

"Yeah, went. Back now."

"Tell you the truth, mate, we never expected to see you again – so you still have those uh… fit things then?"

"Fits? Oh… yeah, but saw someone in L.A. Not a problem anymore."

"Really? Fantastic news! Hey, you'll have to come out with us tomorrow night. Normal Friday night jollies. Nothing changes, eh?"

"Well, I dunno…"

"Come on! We'll surprise the gang, it'll be great. Bar Mondo, nine-ish. No make it later, I won't tell them you're back and then you can make your dramatic entrance."

"I'll think about it, yeah?"

"You don't seem keen, what's up? Christ, you haven't finally got yerself hitched, have you? Quiet nights at home with your bunny?"

"Nah, not exactly."

"I sense a story. Go on, Will, give me the goss. You know how I adore being first with it."

Spike looked at him and thought why the hell not. He had no one else to talk.

"There was someone. Sort of. But he had a choice and he didn't choose me."

"What? Is the man insane! Who is he? Do you want me to gather a team and duff him up?"

Spike started to laugh and it felt like a weight lifting from him.

"You do that, mate. A bunch of London pretty boys out to get him - he'll be quaking in his in bloody Italian leather boots."

"So… a tough guy, eh? Tell me all."

"Nothing to tell me. Went to see him 'bout my illness, he fixed me up…"

"You fell for your bleedin' doctor! A rich, tough guy. Hell, Will, we need to get you back out on the scene."

"You know, maybe I will see you tomorrow. About time I had some fun. All this flaming angst and pain and death…"

"That's the attitude. We'll have a damned good night, I promise you."

"Yeah, ok. Catch you tomorrow."

It felt good to have something to distract him. A night out with his old mates... well not exactly _his_ old mates. Completely fake, of course and really it was more like watching characters in a play than meeting real people. He cast his mind back through false memories, fondly remembering them, as he would episodes from his favourite soap. He smiled. They'd had some good times.

Then he began to worry. He needed to play the part of 'Will' and try to fool those young, carefree men into thinking that he was part of their world. What did they have in common? They worked 9 to 5, went out at weekends, drank, cruised, danced, staggered home, off their faces and out of their heads… He'd almost talked himself out of it and then… sod it. He didn't have much to lose. Go along take the piss out of them all and come home again.

The next day he called in a bloke to cut his hair in a move away from his slicked back style. He set up the webcam so that he could see himself. Hmmm. Looked ok. He drew his fingers through it and watched as it peaked into spikes. He quickly ruffled them out and instead it fell into softly tousled curls. No, definitely not him. He spiked it again and nodded in satisfaction, could do with some new togs though.

He called a couple of the more stylish girls, prepared to beg them, maybe even pay them to go shopping for him. Instead they leapt at the chance and with a shudder of apprehension he realised that they regarded him in the light of a makeover case. Yet without necrotempered cars, he was buggered until nightfall.

Six slayers! Six frigging slayers fussed over him. He'd only called two of them. He supposed the entertainment value was too tempting.

"Ok. Stop. Stop!"

"It's fine. With your eyes, you can take a little eyeliner."

"I've done punk and I'm not planning doing goth. This ain't an Anne sodding Rice vampire, you know."

"You're going clubbing, aren't you? People won't even notice a touch of makeup."

"If you're wearing the leather trousers, leave the leather coat at home, alright? Wearing the whole cow ain't in fashion."

"Come on, put your chin up a bit, Spike. Just a touch of natural pink on the lips, otherwise you tend to look pale…"

Spike gave her a scathing look.

"Well yeah, alright. But we're going for the warm, human look. Not scary creature of the night."

"Thanks for your help and getting the clothes and all, but sod off now, yeah? If you want to play, go buy a Ken."

"But Spike you're so much more fun to dress…"

He went into game face and harried them out the door.

Left by himself he became thoughtful. He went to the computer and logged on.

"Hey. Peaches? You busy?"

"Yeah. Done nothing but sit in this chair for hours and I've got piles"

Spike frowned. Not the sort of thing he'd ever heard vampires being afflicted with before. And then the next part of the message came through.

"of paperwork to get through."

The ponce must have accidentally hit 'enter' halfway though the message.

"I'm going out tonight with some old friends. Can you see me? Do I look ok?"

Angel stared intensely at the screen and then his fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Who are you seeing? You are NOT going out looking like that!"

"Hey! You're not my father and I'm not some underage girl."

"But you look good. Why are you looking so good?"

"Superior genes."

"Who are you seeing? What friends?"

"From when I was human."

"Girls?"

"Blokes."

"William was gay. I'm sure I remember you telling me that Will was gay."

"Yeah."

"You've dressed up like that for your gay friends?"

"It's the way they are, you know, well groomed. Just trying to give myself a chance of fitting in."

"Don't go."

"I'm lonely, Peaches."

Angel's brown eyes gazed steadily into the camera and then dropped to the keyboard.

"Go then. Have a good time."

"Cheers."

"Thanks for letting me know first."

"I'm not a complete goit."

"?"

Spike grinned at him.

"Talk later."

"I'll be waiting."

Spike logged off, feeling slightly better, but cross with himself that he should.

Angel was thoughtful. New life and a new look. New clothes, new hair, new face. The better part of himself was quietly satisfied that Spike was putting himself in the position of being emotionally available. Another part of him was screaming, why the hell did he have to make himself emotionally available to a gang of gay men?

oooo

He turned up at about 9.30.

"Will? William! When the hell did you get back?"

Suddenly he was surrounded by people who had once been friends to his human self. He found himself being welcomed back with extravagant hugs and over the top kisses. They were smiling and laughing in delight. After the pain and the angst and the weight of the world, it was like falling into a soft, candied dream. Nothing here but sugar and froth. There could be worst ways of spending the next few years. It was the ultimate in shallow, thoughtless and undemanding. He grinned back at them and let them embrace him and enfold him in the warmth of friendship and laughter.

A green-eyed man threw himself into Spike's lap and wrapped warm human arms around him, almost causing Spike to drop the bottle he'd been handed.

"Oy! Someone get the limpet of me!"

"What's the matter? Aren't you pleased to see me again, Babe?"

"Will's out of the game at the mo. Broken-hearted, ain't yer?"

The man looked up at him in concern and stroked a hand down his neck.

"I could help out with that. If you can't be with the one you want then want the one you're with."

"What the hell are you on, Deej?" Spike asked the hyper young man.

"At the moment? You, Gorgeous."

"Shame on you, Will. You set that one up for him and God knows he needs no encouragement."

"First one's for free. He'll have to work for the others." Spike grinned back.

Someone touched his hair.

"Love the new look, Spikey."

His face momentarily went blank. The last one to call him that had been Angelus. He brought the bottle to his mouth and finished it off it in a series of long gulps. A few more of them and they could call him what the hell they liked. They moved on to a dance club and he knocked back whatever was offered. This was the point, this was the aim. Lose himself and forget it all. Enjoy the warmth, the human hands that tugged at him and lips that lingered on his skin. Affection that meant nothing and cost nothing.

The music was hardcore dance, it thrummed through the club, beat into the soles of his feet, making it impossible to stand still. Strong male arms pulled him on to the floor and he lost himself to the noise and the rhythm and the heat. People called to him, let hands trail across him as they passed, caught his eye and tried to hold it. He drifted through it all, the consummate predator that ensnares without even trying. He loved the heat and the noise, the adrenalin and the hype. Angel would truly hate this. He smiled to himself, one day he'd bring him here.

Mick grabbed his arm.

"C'mon. Let's grab another drink."

Spike nodded.

"What's with all the touching out there. Don't remember people being that touchy-feely." He asked in some amusement.

"Bloody hell, Will. We thought you'd popped your bleedin' clogs. Everyone just wants to touch, they can't believe you're back. Plus, you look fit, mate. If you weren't my best friend I'd be chasing you myself. Even that creep Tone, can't take his eyes off you. Bloody goit. Dropping you like that when he found out you was ill."

"It wasn't a pretty sight." Spike remembered. "Blackouts, bloodshot eyes, retching and vomiting."

"Well no change there, that's most of us every Saturday morning. Uh oh. Don't look now but he's coming across. Damned cheek. Don't you dare go rebounding back to him."

Spike disobeyed the first part of these instructions and looked anyway. The man was tall, broad, dark-haired, brown eyed and altogether a watery, pale imitation of Angel.

"I think I can promise you that." Spike agreed. Now that he'd tasted the real thing, imitation just wasn't going to cut it.

oooo

Angel was still working when he noticed Spike login.

"You there A?"

"Hey. Good night?"

"Uh huh. Missed you."

"Good."

"Luv u so much."

"Good. Are you drunk?"

"There's so much I wanna do with you."

"You're dr Like what?"

Angel looked at the small picture of Spike and…

"Who is that man draped across you?"

"Don't worry. It's just Deej. He thinks you're gorgeous too."

"Spike. Tell him to GET OFF NOW."

Deej unwrapped himself with a huff and moved out of sight.

"NOW TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON?"

"They wanted to party. Celebrate my return."

"THEY? WHO THEY?"

"Stop shouting, you're making my head hurt."

"Spike. The words are printed so I can't be FRIGGING SHOUTING!"

"Yeah you are. The letters are glaring at me. Uh oh. Now they've started dancing around the screen. Weird."

"Talk to me Spike. Why is that man with you?"

"That's Deej."

Spike frowned. The old sire was a bit slow tonight. He was pretty certain that he'd said this once. Although he wasn't one hundred percent sure.

"Concentrate Spike. Why. Is. That Man. With. You."

He tried to concentrate but gathering that much sobriety was making him feel nauseous.

"Gotta go - gonna puke."

That was the last Angel heard from him for the night. He went to bed, torn between irritation and laughter. Life with Spike was never boring, even when he was a couple of thousand miles away. Any inclination to laughter was quickly chased away. Nightmares came and his sleep was once more troubled and dogged by shadowy impressions that left him feeling chilled.

oooo

Mid-afternoon and an email appeared.

Subject: Sorry

Yeah. Subject sorta sez it all. But not what you thought. Feel like I've been trying to swim in waters too deep for me, sharks and the like tearing holes into me. Wanted to remember what it was like being human, splashing in the shallows, playing with the tiddlers, having fun, playing make believe. Nothing but a game of make-believe, Peaches. I know what's real. x

Subject: Re Sorry

You hardly know what you're doing do you? Sigh. Don't get hurt. And remember they're real people. Don't hurt them. A

Subject: Re Re Sorry

You plead behalf of everyone but yourself. Shouldn't you ask me not to hurt you?

Subject Re Re Re Sorry

Got to trust someone to do what's right for me and tag you're it. Do I need to ask? A

Subject: Really Sorry

Shouldn't have to, but sometimes I'm such a bloody idiot and I'm so afraid I'm gonna cock it up. Don't let me. Don't ever stop loving me will you? Spike x

This was the first conversation that had felt natural and right since they'd parted, for a second it felt almost as though they were lightly touching and that he could hear Spike's gruff voice. It soothed him and made him despondent because in that second he had a taste of what life could be, if Spike were with him.

Subject: Never

A. x

Another week passed. Spike had two more visions, the agency had four new cases, a new batch of slayers joined the L.A. team and Angelus was beginning to haunt his dreams. Angelus had been subdued at first, but since Spike's departure, he had been gradually growing noisier and more troublesome, a malcontent demon straining at his bars even as he strained at Angel's sanity. He decided it was the demon filling his dreams with this hopelessness that lingered in his mouth like ashes. Angel felt like he hadn't slept properly since Spike left. All his dreams were dark and haunted and he would awake feeling troubled and heavy-eyed.

But there was no time to mull over what was happening,. Always busy, always moving. Crazy days and sleepless night and Spike a million miles away, living his pretend life in some cold city. They were both pretending. Spike was make-believing he was someone called Will, living with false memories and fluff. Then there was Angel himself. Pretending he wasn't flying apart at the seams.

His only comfort were his chats with Spike, looking at his blurred features, watching as he would occasionally touch the screen, causing Angel to shiver to the thought that he was trying reach through the glass of the monitor to stroke his face. He'd close his eyes and imagine he could feel those cool fingertips against his jaw, wishing he could make out the expression in those bright blue eyes.

"So are you out tonight? With your friends?"

"Yeah. But I'll be back and talk to you as usual. Not planning on getting shit-faced this time."

"Go. Have fun. It's good for you."

"Don't like to think of you by yourself…"

"Going to Wes and Fred's."

"Chinese food and Californian wine. I remember it well. Could never get that git Wes to remember that I preferred beer."

"I thought your tastes had changed… what's the name of that wine bar you go to?"

"Mondo. How did you know that. Hey! Have you got someone stalking me? You have haven't you? Isn't that just like you! There'd better not be photos, you know how things like that taken out of context can look incriminating, however innocent they really are. You're not really having me followed are you?"

"Have fun tonight, Spike. You should go get ready now – we'll talk later."

"Oy! Don't you dare log off."

"GBye."

Leaving Spike swearing to himself and dodging sunbeams as he peered out a window, trying to spot his stalker.

oooo

Yet another frigging sleepless night. Angelus an ever present entity, growling useless threats and then the dark foreboding of indeterminate nightmares. It was exhausting him. To top it all Spike hadn't logged in. Angel had almost fallen asleep at the machine waiting for him and now he was so worried that he was seriously thinking of setting up a household of spies just to tail his childe and ensure that he was safe.

Thank god. There was message in his private inbox.

Subject: I get it now

Hey, sorry for not catching you earlier, had a bit of a night. End of the night and I'd just left everyone and was walking home. You know how good it feels to walk at night, when there's no one around and the only traffic is the black cabs. You feel like you own the whole city. Anyway, heard a noise, went back and found a couple of creeps picking on little Deej.

Don't know if I've described any of this lot to you but Deej is the youngest, the baby and he plays on it. Attention seeking and ott and not a nasty bone in him. So he's there against the wall, trying to be all brave and manly, whilst they're calling him names and pushing him around until he falls. Then one of them is lighting a cig and decides it'd be a good game to throw lighted matches at the little boy. I was so frigging furious! I raced across and just wanted to tear them apart. Pulled them away and noticed one of those damned matches had caught. Ripped the jacket from one of the bloke's and smothered the flame.

The pissing cowards! Set fire to him and then ran away. I wanted to catch up with them and take them to pieces. Slowly.

I didn't. I helped Deej up, brought him home and sat with him all night. Do you know why I didn't chase them down? Bet you think it's cus I knew you would think it was wrong? Uh uh. Yeah, could have caught up with them, bullied them, terrified them, roughed them up cus they're weaker than me. But I think I get a bit of what you want me to learn. So I start by beating up a couple of creeps and maybe that's ok but where do I draw the line? If I use the language and the tactics of the wicked, how am I different from them? I think that with every bad action you lose a piece of your soul. Mine was too hard won to cast it away so lightly.

It's about self worth innit? I feel in my gut what I did was right and it makes me feel stronger. Makes me feel as though I'm worth something. So we act with morality because we have to care for ourselves as well as care for others. Also, when I ripped the jacket off one of the blokes I got his wallet, name address the lot. Hand that over to the police and let the frigging law terrify the crap out of them instead. Are you pleased with me Peaches?

Angel finished the message and something like hope briefly flared in his heart. He could almost see the wound heal over. One less scar. For both of them.

Subject: Re I get it now

So proud of you childe. Now tell me why one turncoat vampire can make a difference in this world?

Spike wasn't logged in, so Angel heated his blood and started his day. First thing. Sort out the old slayers so that they could begin training the new ones and take one of the burdens off his hands. Delegate three of the new cases to Wes, Fred and Gunn respectively. Spend an hour mulling over the last nine months or so, surely he could find an hour a day to start piecing back together his life and making sense of it all again. A small cloud lifted and he chugged back his blood. Hell, maybe he'd even sleep tonight.

oooo

Spike woke to his message and grinned. He thought about Angel's question as he pottered around making his breakfast, Cocoa Pops and blood. He'd tried to be healthier but the muesli had made him choke and Honey Nut Loops were like sugar coated cardboard. Also, they didn't make that satisfying crackling sound when the blood was poured over, so he'd changed back to his Cocoa Pops.

Subject: Why…

Cus Angelus was lying. There's no such thing as predestination, which means even an insignificant turncoat vampire can affect things sometimes. And a stunning, blonde haired, dynamo of a vampire can probably send the world arse over tit. I'm on a roll – any more?

Subject: So…

Do you want to meet your son?

Subject: Not yet

x

Spike's messenger bleeped at him.

"Ok. I won't push. How's the boy with the weird name?"

"Doesn't talk about it. When you get attacked like that, I suppose you go into shock for a while."

"Physically and mentally, I guess."

"The physical stuff is nothing. Bit of pain and healed again."

"But psychologically?"

"I suppose it goes round and round in the noggin. Why anyone would do stuff like that to you? Did you deserve it somehow?"

Something clicked inside Angel and he answered cautiously.

"No one deserves that sort of treatment."

"And the person who does it, what do they feel for the victim? Contempt? Hate? Else how could they do it?"

"They think only of themselves. They are the centre of the world and it should bend to their will. Don't let him blame himself."

"He doesn't. He s just gets a bit lost when he thinks about it. So he doesn't talk about it and doesn't think."

"He retreats and pretends it never happened? It's a knee-jerk reaction but in the long term it's not healthy, Spike. He needs to internalise it and grow from it."

"Peaches? Its ok. He's not trying to lose himself anymore. He knows that the life and the people here are as real and desperate as anywhere else. He's facing what happened to him and he's growing stronger from it. He's found certainty in why he's here and why he fights. It's in the core of his being and can never be taken away. He's discovered that even at his weakest moment he can reject everything to do what's right. It gives a man self belief."

"I'm glad. His strength and resilience amazes me. But will he ever find it in himself to completely love an innocent defenceless being?

"It nearly killed me to draw that stake on you. To have two people to care for… I'm not saying never. Just small steps, yeah?"

"Baby steps if that what its takes."

"By the way Deej is fine. Looking forward to his day in court, planning what shoes to wear with what clothes, trying out his most pathetic expressions to win around the judge. He's sitting here watching Judge Judy, at the moment. Tough as old boots."

"Deej or Judge Judy?"

"Hah, hah. Anyway, time to take him home and then meet with the slayers. Later."

oooo

This was becoming monotonous. He'd only been in bed an hour and already another frigging nightmare. Always the same. Darkness, despair, need. Flash. Blood. Flash. Dark. It was driving him nuts. All he asked was a few hours sleeps and a break from his demon that screamed for release. He punched and shook his pillow back to feathery softness and settled down again.

He awoke with a blink after another period of flimsy and insubstantial rest. His eyes felt tired and gritty, his throat was dry, and restless images followed him into his waking hours. It was still dark. Bleary eyed he made his way to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water in an attempt to feel refreshed.

He was feeling… haunted. His dreams had been dark and disturbing but nebulous. Nothing he could put his finger on, no screaming victims or heart wrenching terror, just an overweening sensation of dread. And horror. And decay. It almost made his skin crawl.

He blinked the water out of his eyes and turned off the faucet, reaching blindly for a towel.

And then he felt it.

A chill that feathered icy fingers up and down his spine, goosebumps rising to the touch. He pulled the towel from his eyes. It seemed to have grown darker and even his vampiric sight couldn't pierce the cloak of blackness. He took a sharp breath, he recognised this. He should do, he'd seen it every night for the past three weeks.

His nightmare.

Coming to life.

He closed his eyes in denial, but the air itself was becoming heavy with the sickening stench of putrefying flesh. He could hear distant cries from people he'd never met and yet they still accused him. Fingers pointed at him. Identified him. They were reaching towards him. Seeking hands were clawed in desperation and despair.

Any minute. Any second, he would open his eyes to gleaming, pristine porcelain and the only scent would be the familiar lemon tang. He defied his nightmare and opened his eyes wide. Nothing but familiar darkness. Until…

A flash of brilliant white.

It seared his eyes. His retinas burned with an after image, which became a reality of gleaming, tiled walls, spattered with gore and running red with blood. He backed away, reached behind and tried the handle of the bathroom door. It held fast against him. He closed his eyes once more, willing it back to normal. Through the comforting darkness of his shuttered eyes, the smell of decay and the mouldering, musty scent of those long dead gradually permeated his senses. When next he opened them the room was once more in blackness.

Another flash of blazing light that lit the room to blindness and left sparks before his eyes. The glare fading to words splashed in blood across pristine tiles:

"Release me!"

The message dripped before him, hot and red with yearning.

Eyes shut tight and heaving breaths.

He opened them again. The bathroom was clean, sparkling white with a faint smell of lemons. He tried the handle and it swung easily to his touch. He stood silently on the threshold looking into his room. A picture of normality; a rumpled bed, a half-read book, an empty whiskey glass by the bedside.

Yet there was something lingering. He could sense it. The very stillness was unnatural.

Than he heard it.

A heartbeat.

A rasping breath.

Footsteps, moving slowly towards him, creaking the floorboards. A foot shaped indentation in the carpet pile. It lifted and then another depression, closer to him. Moving invisibly and inexorably towards him.

He was starting to feel tired, angry and very, very pissed off.

"You think these games frighten me? You know how long I've been playing them? This a walk in the park compared to the ones I used to play."

The footsteps were coming closer but he stood his ground.

"Before you take another step make damn sure you want to play with me." He snarled at his invisible opponent.

He felt the thing dive at him. A mouth opening larger and larger. The stench of its breath, like every grave he'd ever known. Grazing teeth that only passed through him and its body hitting like a blast of arctic air, rippling through him with a million icy shards and stealing the Californian heat from his body.

Then it was over. His room was empty. It had gone and it was as though he'd imagined the whole scene. He shook his head and miniature icy spears flew from his hair, into his deeply piled carpet.

He reached for the phone and pressed the digits, waiting impatiently for the pickup.

"Willow?"

"Angel? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Sorry, it's me.I need your help. He's haunting my dreams. Demanding release and now he's managed to physically manifest himself in this world."

"Really? This is bad. I don't know what to say. I've never heard anything like it. But there again your situation is unique."

"You've done it before. You have to do it again."

"Put Angelus back in his cage? I don't know…"

"Angelus? Why are you talking about Angelus?"

"Oookay. Angel, I know you're upset about something. Now I want you to slowly tell me what's happening."

"I am being haunted. He wants release and…."

"Angel. Listen. This is important. Who wants to be released?"

"That man whose life I returned."

"The sorcerer of Chi'Lustra?"

"Yeah. That's what I keep saying. Willow you need to go save his world so that he can die again. He's slipping away and he can't hold on. Doesn't want to hold on."

"I can't."

"You can't?" Angel asked his voice was deathly.

"The last lot of magic was heavy stuff. I'm burnt out, Angel. I'm gonna need weeks… how long have we got?"

"At a guess? Two to three hours. This last manifestation was his final attempt to reach me."

"But… why you?"

"Who else? I'm the one who killed him last time. Guess that gives us a special bond." Sarcasm was beginning to edge his voice.

"Oh. You're going to have to do the spell."

"It took you three frigging weeks to complete the spell last time!"

"Look, you can do it. I spent three weeks because I had to make the spell from nothing. I had to seek out beings who would agree to answer when called. Make the wording acceptable. Plead for the co-operation of a hundred gods from a hundred other worlds. I've set up the spell. All you have to do is cast it."

"What do I have to do? The only way I know to reach him is through Europe, I haven't got time to fly there."

"You still have the disk thingy that you used last time? We can utilise that. It's ok, you don't need human blood to realign it. Your blood will do. So listen up…"

"Willow? If I don't return tell Spike…"

"Tell Spike…" Willow prompted gently.

Angel cleared his throat and blinked.

"I'll email you. If I don't return, Forward it to Spike."

oooo

Snow falling, wind howling, ice creaking, falls frozen. A man sitting, frozen eyes, frosted lips, as though all of winter is drawn towards him, is embodied in him. The falling snow, the creaking ice, the wind all whisper the same refrain, echoing the words barely breathed passed the man's own lips, haunting the dreams of unwary travellers. And those that stumbled free from the frozen land would whisper to those who would hear, "Please set me free..."

A stranger appeared in the heart of the land of snow and ice and saw the man and heard his words and laid cold hand upon frozen brow.

"I will set you free, old man."

Thus the pledge was spoken. The stranger turned and with a gesture, slashed a hole in the fabric of the world. He stepped through it and all was void, an empty shell of a dimension, used up and abandoned five hundred years before. He threw up his arms in supplication and called upon the powerful to fulfil their promise, to answer the cry of a dying world. They heard his words and bent themselves to his will. Then opening around him with the blinding light of a supernova, there appeared one hundred doors and through these doors flowed the pure energy of life, bursting forth from a hundred beautiful, flourishing worlds. It flared through the ruined dimension, towards the small rift where an old man sat, begging for freedom.

The shield he'd maintained for five hundred years falls from the roof of the world and the darkness hovers on the lip of indecision. It chooses the supernova of energy beaming through the gap in the world, tumbling through the rift towards the source of the power. The stranger lowers head and arms. At his command one hundred doors snap shut, sealing their life away. He steps back through the rift and with a gesture, heals the tear in the world. He murmurs his thanks and drops to his knees.

The barrier that shielded and protected the world has gone, the gathering darkness has flown and moonlight sifts down through balmy air.

A cold hand laid gently upon warm brow and words were spoken as the pledge was fulfilled.

"I release you."

A splintered smile and tears in rheumy eyes. The man spoke fragile words that cracked with long disuse.

"I am old and thought never to see my world in motion again. The shifting clouds or a glimpse of starry night. Do you hear people singing? A lilting voice blending with the darkness, whispering, singing its lullaby? It is exhorting sleep, oh baby sleep, let bright eyes close and body rest and never stir again. So tempting, so tired. Life so hard and me so weary."

He clenched the cold hand to his chest.

"I've lived so long and through the years I've called for them to take me. I remembered the people long since departed and I called for Mother and I called for my love, but it's all gone now, slipped away and gone."

His eyes were already staring into some other world. He took the cold hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I am leaving life and I am glad. For the love of my world and for the love of my people, I lived too long and cared too much. Always striving, reaching for stars and reaching too far. My story is ending. I am pleased to share the end with you. My killer. My saviour. Two times over. My thanks are endless. But I must leave. My Mother calls and my dearest love is waiting for me. See how she shines! She opens welcoming arms to me as I embrace her." His voice drifted away.

Angel gently shut his eyes.

oooo

Spike sensed the absence as soon as Angel disappeared from the world. Their blood bond had slipped and failed but the presence of his Sire stayed with him. Until now. It was late evening in England and he had been patrolling with a couple of slayers, when the feeling hit him. A void in the world that used to hold Angel. He left the slayers and raced back home.

Wesley. For some reason, Wesley was his first thought. The idiot had sent him on some dangerous job, never to return. He called and let it ring out. Then called again. He finally heard the cultured English tones, blurred and made almost unintelligible by yawns and mumbled sleepy tones. Didn't matter, Spike wasn't interested in exchanging greetings.

"What have you done to Angel?"

"Uh… Spike? Is that you? Do you realise what…"

"Wesley. Where the fuck is Angel?"

Wesley gathered his cold dignity in the face of unexpected hostility.

"As far as I know, Angel is in bed sleeping."

"You ain't sent him on any missions then?"

"No, I haven't. Frankly? I'm tired, I'm doing my best to be civil to you…"

"Check his bed. Check the house. Find out where he is."

He rang off and phoned the next person on his hit list. The frigging witch.

"Spike?"

"You're not in bed fast asleep then Red? Why's that?"

"Well… Angel rang…"

"Yeah, how is he?"

"Uh huh. He's… fine. Yes, he's fine."

"Now the next question is the important one. Where the hell is he?"

"Spike? Calm down. He didn't want you to know. He was afraid you'd worry…"

"Worry! I'm climbing the sodding walls here! Tell me. Where. Has. He. Gone."

"If you promise not to go all irritable and grrr... Ok. Ok. I'm telling. Sheesh you don't have to use words like that, Mister."

Spike took a huge breath to help contain the threatened explosion.

"I'm very calm. I'm not grrr. Would you please, pretty please with a cherry on top, tell me where he is?"

"Ok. He's gone back to Chi'Lustra. The sorcerer who holds it together is fading and I'm too burnt out to attempt the spell, so Angel said that he'd go and I taught him the spell, I'm nearly certain it'll work…"

"How long will he be gone?"

"It shouldn't take more than minutes."

"Willow? He's been gone nearly an hour already."

"Yes. I know."

"Can you…?"

"No. Sorry. All out of juice."

"Can I…?"

"Do you have anything that will open portals? Or have you tried to do it before?"

"Right. So we just wait then?"

"Sorry."

"Can't believe he left without…" Spike trailed off.

"He left a message for you." She admitted.

"What did he say?"

"It's an email. I haven't looked. I think it was personal, in case he never… you know."

"Send it to me."

"Spike. Give him time."

"Send it to me. I need to know what he could possibly say to make this all seem ok."

"He'll be back."

Spike didn't answer.

She sighed.

"It's with you now."

"Thank you."

He hung up and opened his most recent mail.

Subject: For Spike

I love you. One day with you was worth an eternity of hell without you.

oooo

He lifted the body. It weighed no more than a wisp. He took it to a high place and raised a cairn around it, labouring through the night. If this world had saints, then here rested one of them, existing for all those years in such loneliness and sorrow. He removed a knife, which in another time had caused blood to flow onto this ravaged world. It seemed like balance to use it now to carve words of love into stone, Yin and Yang, destruction and conservation. The knife. The world. Completion of a cycle. He laboriously chipped away into the stone.

Here Lies the Guardian of Chi'Lustra

Love Him Well, For the Life That He Gave You

And the Love He Held For You

The wind dropped and the world held itself in abasement, respecting the passing of one who maintained his lonely vigil when hope and belief had passed and all he had left was his love. The first gleam of dawn fell upon his tomb. The barrier that had shut out the darkness had also shut out light, but now, for the first time in half a millennium the sun was rising again.

Angel held up a hand to it in wonder, he splayed his fingers and let it streak across his face. Not just some necrotempered substitute, but the real thing. It was clear and bright and warm. It formed rainbows in water, and refracted off the snow in a way that made the earth glow with its own light. Angel was entranced.

Crystal water dripped from melting stalactites and pooled briefly before, trickling away through furrows. Water bubbled and skipped over old streambeds that through the years had retained the memory of carefree times and welcomed them back with gurgling joy. It was a world returning from death and as the sun slowly rose it felt like the dawn of creation. The warmth and light engendered life. It gleefully overflowed and burst from the earth in joy.

All things on the world felt the ethereal brush of rebirth. A woman in a light summer dress threw up her arm, her countenance lit from within by the gladness in her heart. A rabbit twitched its nose to the spring air, as pollen and spore filled its sensitive nostrils. The substance of life danced like whorls of fairy dust caught in sunbeams and spiralling down to earth. Long dormant plants pushed through the sterile blanket, unfurling tentative fronds of vibrant green, splashing colour upon the barrenness and new blossom reached towards the light, receiving the warmth into its heart as a sinner receives the blessing of their gods.

This world had a heart and the beat was strong. It pulsed though blood and sap and the precious veins of the earth, joining all things in sanctity.

The gods beamed their pleasure and their healing love rolled out across the world. It cured all ills, for this was a new day and all would face it well and whole. Scales fell from the eyes of the blind, the crooked stood tall and disease retreated. All were to celebrate this first day reborn. Even Angel.

He felt the healing love pass over him and turned his face towards it. They blessed him, allowed him to touch the perfect joy of this day. It infused his body and made him feel whole and clean. He felt a light touch on his head and a whispered benediction.

"Our beloved child, the divided warrior, who clasps destruction in one hand, whilst the other distributes life. May you live in happiness."

Words of thanks and gratitude from a world that lived. A breeze caressed him with tender touch, sunlight wrapped its warmth around him and rich, moist earth presented him with a cool retreat.

He was being tempted with a world, with a paradise.

Yet a world that didn't hold Spike was no temptation at all.

He chose Spike.

No further persuasion was given. This was a place that understood the value of love and offered only light touches of farewell that stroked his skin and ruffled his hair. He was drenched in one last burst of pure happiness of a world born anew. It flooded through him, clothing him in ethereal light. An opened portal appeared before him. He turned to face the sun for one last time before stepping back to the world which held his only real sunshine,caught within blue eyes and bright hair.

He was back in his house and despite the lack of sleep he felt refreshed for the first time in weeks. He was buzzing and energised.

Ok. Call Willow. Let her know the spell had worked.

"Angel! Thank the goddess you're back. Please, login now and talk to Spike."

"Spike. Why…?"

"Because I like my spine where it is. It's important to me. So is my heart, my liver, my intestines and every other organ in my body."

"Willow?"

"Go. Chat. Now. He felt you disappear and he's been worrying ever since. And… don't be cross. He insisted I sent your email across. I'm sorry, he was so upset that I…"

"Oh God. I'll call later. Thanks for everything."

"Yes. Go."

Angel raced over to his computer and had hardly logged in before a message flashed up.

"Angel? That you?"

"Yeah. Hi. Sorry. You were worried?"

"Nah."

Angel smiled at the tired face that appeared on his screen.

"Liar."

"So is it all fixed now?"

"The spell worked and the world breathes again. It was wonderful to see."

"I'm proud of you, Angel."

Approval had been denied him for most his life and he was almost undone to hear it falling from the lips of the person he loved most in life. Expecting gentle accusations and melancholy, instead he received the ultimate blessing and his heart expanded with love for this man. He gazed into the camera.

"This isn't enough. I need to hold you."

"You're holding me, luv. I can feel your arms wrapped around me."

"Yeah? You feel so good. I love the faint smell of smoke that lingers in your hair. It reminds me of cold winter nights, when the fire was banked and we'd curl up in the warmth of our room."

"Your skin always smells fresh and clean. I can smell it now, even that poncey gel you use can't hide it. I remember being a fledging and getting into a fight with that other clan. Was only a couple of years old. There were too many and I thought that was the end. Suddenly you were in front of me, a blur of movement and they were dust. You helped me up and put an arm around me and told me that no one hurts your family. That's the night I first noticed your scent."

"I remember watching the fight, wondering if you'd run. You didn't. From that moment I knew I could trust you. Always so brave."

"Not always. Tonight? Not so much. So annoyed when Willow said you'd left me with a poxy email."

"There was no time."

"Then I read it. It hit me like a revelation. I understand. The love I have for you means hell is eternity without you, but when I weigh it up I find it's worth the price."

"Love generally is."

"I'm talking about you. You are worth the price."

"Thank you."

"Anyway…"

"Hmmm?"

"Just wondering like…"

"What is it?"

"This baby. You know. Has it got a name or anything. Not that I'm particularly interested. Just making conversation."

"Buffy named him after your father."

"My father? What you?"

"Your human father."

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Why would I joke? She asked what your father's name had been and I told her."

"Couldn't you have talked her out of it?"

"What right did I have?"

"I knew she had a mean streak but you…"

"Are you actually feeling something for your son?"

"Yeah. Sympathy. The poor little bugger."

Spike raised his hand in a gesture of farewell and logged off.

Angel switched off and sat there, deep in thought. When Spike had talked about the old days he hadn't felt removed from it. They hadn't been filtered through another's beings memories. Instead they had felt vibrant and alive. What had changed? He mulled over his experience on Chi'Lustra and the emotions flooded back.

The joy and the magic were with him still. He felt happy and whole. He remembered the hum of creation that had filled his senses and standing amidst it he'd known for a second what perfect happiness could be.

The gods had let him share a moment of perfection in their perfect world… He realised what was strange. The level of happiness he'd attained.

And yet he was still here…

with a soul…

and Angelus was no longer roaring inside.

He remembered the healing strength that had filled the world. That had touched all. Even him. Healed all. Even him?

His heart contracted and he had the sensation of being suddenly light-headed. He was gripped by a pleasure so great it left him weak. He collapsed to his knees, overwhelmed, the power of his emotions too much to contain. Tears that he'd buried for a hundred years became an unstoppable flood, washing away all doubt and fear. They watered a fragile hope and made it bloom.

Chi'Lustra looked on with quiet satisfaction, on this day when all things were made whole, how could they do less for him, their Saviour, their Champion? They whispered their final blessing.

"Be divided no more and in this union may you union find."

Angel buried his head in his arms and wept for joy.

TBC


	11. Mountain High

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Summary: _**Angel is on a high, but Spike is feeling increasingly lost. Hmmm how to fix that?

* * *

Chapter 11 

**Mountain High**

Wesley found him first.

He was sitting on the floor and he was crying.

After Spike's hostile and distraught phone call, Wesley had mentally prepared himself for just about anything. Anything except this. He crouched down next to the dark haired vampire and tentatively reached out a hand.

"Angel?"

When he looked up Wesley was suddenly uncertain whether it had been tears or laughter. He slowly stood and backed away. He didn't recognise the expression on Angel's face, but felt like he might have seen a version of it on Angelus. Oh dear lord… He backed towards the door.

Angel still had tears gleaming on his cheeks, but he seemed to have recovered himself and he was rising to his feet, an unholy smile of joy on his face.

"Wesley?"

"Stay away from me!" Wesley fumbled for the stake that he always carried.

The vampire curiously watched the action and then seemed to realise what the human was doing. It made him throw back his head and stare at the ceiling. Never again. Never again would he have to see fear of him reflected on the faces of his friends. He began to laugh quietly, which made Wesley even more nervous. Before he could fully extract the stake the vampire had pounced. He was pinned in an embrace, unable to move. His heart sped up and as the familiar face drew away he saw again the glee in those brown eyes and then that mouth was coming towards him.

This was it. He could never have denied Angel his friendship, but in a way, he always knew it would end like this. The cold embrace and descending fangs. Except the fangs didn't descend. Instead he was nearly swallowed whole by an exuberant kiss that left him reeling and breathless. He clung to a strong arm for support and saw Angel looking at him, mischief alight in his eyes. Fear rapidly turned to anger.

"You… you…! What the…? I nearly bloody died of terror! And… bloody hell, you kissed me…"

"Yeah. Sorry. Come on lets go." Angel was still on his high and nearly bouncing with excitement. Today a brand new world opened before him.

"You don't look sorry. Where are we going? And why did you…?"

"Yo guys? Everything cool up there?"

Gunn had got here as soon as he could, but morning traffic had held him up.

They'd been worried about him! God, Angel loved these guys so damned much. Wesley caught the look in his eye and this time understood what it meant.

"Gunn? Start running."

Gunn backed away nervously. What the hell…?

"Oh.! Bleah!" He scrubbed at his mouth and made little spitting sounds. "What the hell's got into you dude? I'm warning you, you ever do that again…"

But Angel was already heading out.

"Come on you guys. Lets go."

Gunn and Wesley exchanged a look.

"Dunno about you man, but I'm not sure I wanna get in the car with him… supposing he tries to jump our bones? I've never seen him like this, what is it with him?"

"Well, taking a wild stab in the dark, I'd say that we've never really seen him happy before."

"Ok... Normally that means bad news for us, as in the rabid rottweiler Angelus. Instead we get over-exuberant puppy Angel. What's up with this, English?"

Wesley had already worked it out and gave a soft smile.

"Charles, I believe he has a permanent soul."

They both watched as the vampire shielded himself under his leather jacket and bounded towards the car. There was no doubt about it. Happiness was rolling off him in waves. Gunn gave a low whistle.

"No wonder he's smooching everyone in sight." He suddenly looked a little unsure of himself and cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, he did the same to you as well, right? Yeah? Wes…?"

Angel could hardly keep still. He was thrumming with happiness and couldn't stop grinning. He knew it was making the others nervous but they'd just have to get used to it, cus it wasn't going away anytime soon. At the moment he was considering how to break the news to Spike. It didn't feel right just calling him up and telling him over the phone and email was even worse.

"Go to him. Surprise him." Fred suggested

Angel thought about it. It was a good idea, but it meant that he didn't dare talk to Spike. Despite Angel's loud and repeated declarations, the boy wasn't an idiot, he'd suss out in no time that there was something going on. How could he not when Angel was virtually singing with happiness?

He thought carefully of how he could surprise Spike. It was so important that he got this right and there were so many ways he could mess it up. He remembered everything that Spike had ever said or reacted to. That he'd never been loved before. How he felt like Angel's dirty little secret. The fact that Angel had always put Darla, Dru and Buffy before Spike.

It would take a dramatic gesture to help deal with all that baggage. Angel turned cold and a knot of dread was tying up his stomach because suddenly he knew what he had to do and the thought of it made him nearly throw up. He swallowed down his anxiety. This more than anything would convince Spike that he was serious. He decided, he was going to go through with it.

Meanwhile there was another issue that still needed to be dealt with. It was time to make that promised call to Buffy. For the first time since Angelus had returned, he finally felt that he had enough strength for them all and he could fix everything he'd broken.

oooo

Spike was beginning to get that distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he'd cocked up again, not having heard from the Poof for three days. Three sodding days! Trouble was, he wasn't altogether sure what he'd done wrong and it was really beginning to piss him off. His first instinct was to send a snotty message and hey, go with your instinct that was his philosophy.

Subject: So what's…

…crawled up your ass and died?

He considered the message. It was succinct, to the point and neatly summed up the general thrust of his argument. He clicked send. And waited. He kept the pc logged on all day. He checked every half hour for a reply. Eventually, using all his self control, he managed to drag it out to nearly forty minutes between the quick casual checks of his inbox. Time zones meant that they were bound to be out of sync occasionally, thus he reasoned with himself. After twelve hours that line of reasoning was beginning to wear a tad thin.

He was pacing the room and chewing on the end of his fingers because he'd run out of smokes. This was truly pathetic, behaving like a bleeding lovesick puppy and he hated it. It smacked too much of William and the human he used to be. There again supposing his sire was in trouble? He dismissed the thought. There was no sense of absence, other than the one emanating from his empty email box. Angel had been managing by himself for the last one hundred years, no reason for it to change now.

The sun would be rising soon, may as well take a kip and attempt to pass a few more hours. He went to bed and managed to sleep through part of the morning, but his inbox was beckoning and he could resist its siren call no longer.

Nothing. Bloody nothing.

Now he really was worried and the carpet was beginning to show wear from his restless pacing. Angel hadn'tlogged on for over twenty-four hours, hadn't made contact for four days. What the hell did it mean? For better or worse it was time to find out. He rang the Agency. Fred answered.

"Hey, Pet. Is the Poof there?"

"Oh, hi Spike! How are you? You got another vision for us?"

"I'm fine and no, no visions. Is he there?"

"Sorry. He's not. I mean he's around but, you know, kinda busy."

"Uh huh. So is he ok?"

"Yes. Just…"

"Busy?"

Spike didn't know what to make of this.

"So what's he been up to?"

"The usual. You know him, working and fighting and all. Pretty much the same old, same old."

"Right. So nothing different?"

"Well, Buffy and uh… Buffy came to visit, so he's been pretty busy with her."

Spike's brain was working overtime and on that flimsy evidence a whole scene was taking shape in his head.

"Buffy, eh? How long she been visiting for?"

"I'm not sure… three or four days I guess."

"She staying long?"

"I think they've been discussing her moving back to L.A. which will be really great. Ya know how those two get on." Fred's enthusiasm was a little grating.

"Yep. That's… great."

The imagined scene in his head had grown to a full length novel, complete with epilogue.

"You ok, Spike?"

"Never been better. Cheers Pet."

He gently put down the phone.

So he was seeing Buffy again and Buffy was now a package deal, two for the price of one.

Spike was a patient man. Ask any of his friends. Hell, his name was practically a byword for patience. Patient and mild-mannered. Yeah, he was sure these hypothetical friends would call him mild-mannered. Clarke Kent and Job all rolled into one patient and mild-mannered package. But he'd finally had it. Enough was e-sodding-nough. He punctuated this thought with a cracking kick to the defenceless wall.

A hundred years of rage bubbled through him. A hundred years of never knowing where he stood in his sire's affections. A hundred years of being picked up, put down, tossed aside. Affection, abandonment, love, torture and the only constant had been his own feelings that had kept him circling faithfully around Angel like a planet enslaved in orbit around a shining star.

Resentment and anger flashed inside. He was so bloody stupid. An idiot. It was like he'd said, soon as you loved someone you handed them a weapon to cut you with. Christ, he had thought these games were over, thought he could trust again, but it was always the same with Angel, start to trust him and you'd wake up one evening with a wooden stake hanging precariously over your heart, and everything you thought was true, turning into just another crazy game.

Something that Angelus had said rang in his memory: Angel had fallen asleep dreaming about the scent of wet, bathed baby, dreamed Buffy would come along and invite him to join the family. It dawned on Spike that he'd been mistaken. Angel's perfect happiness hadn't been about him. It had been a combination of things, including a fantasy of how life with Buffy could be. Of course he'd chosen Buffy. Spike wasn't stupid, he knew by now how this story went. He'd seen it played out enough sodding times.

He added some detail to his novel. He could see it all so clearly. Angel had been feeling lonely, probably brooding over Connor, when suddenly Buffy appeared, the love of his life, complete with the unclaimed sprog. It would have been a seductive combination that Angel just wouldn't have been able to resist. Of course he'd have felt guilty about Spike, pulled a sorrowful face and peered at Buffy through his puppy-dog eyes, but in the end how could he have resisted temptation? Which would explain why he'd been unable to face his childe for the last few days.

Well bully for him, because this childe didn't give a damn. Pick up with Buffy, claim the infant as his own. Whatever. The satellite was finally spinning free of its predestined orbit, cus there was no such thing as predestination. You get out there and make your own destiny. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was no such thing as love. It was a myth that needed two people to believe in it in order to gain any sort of existence, and as soon as one person stopped believing, the myth exploded into the lie it had always been. It was an act of faith, not an absolute as he'd always thought. And Spike was all out of faith.

Loving Angel had been like hanging on to a rollercoaster, exciting and heart-stopping, but now he was finally tired of the ride and wanted to get off. He felt a flash of hurt before he could tamp it down. All these feeling and emotions were just a remnant left over from the idiot William, and after one-hundred and twenty years it was time to finally bury the poor sod, screw down the casket and shovel on the earth. No more manic emotions. No more love that made him feel like he was soaring high or hurt that made him want to curl up in the sun. It was time to put such childish emotions away.

He felt good, as though he'd spent his life drowning in a sea of passion and was finally surfacing for the first time in years. Now that he no longer cared about Angel a sense of peace washed through him. The sea of passion drained away, anger receded and left only a sense of tranquillity. He realised he'd spent his life as a child, all tantrums and rage and need. Why would Angel want that, now there was Buffy and an actual child who needed his care? Maybe this was for the best for both of them.

Time to grow up. Next time he saw his sire, he'd be mature and adult. He'd speak to Angel and Buffy reasonably. Give the kid a pat on the head if ever he saw it.

The phone rang. Spike put a hand on it, debating whether to answer it. It was probably Mick with arrangements for tonight.

Then he heard _his_ voice.

"Spike?"

He sounded a bit weird. Subdued. As though he was keeping his voice carefully under control. No wonder, what with having to tell him about Buffy and all. Spike was still feeling remarkably mature and decided to help him out.

"Hey, how's things?"

"A damn sight better for hearing your voice. You ok?"

Spike closed his eyes. Why did they still have to go through the rigmarole of pretence?

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Uh… ok. Are you sure you're alright. Sorry I haven't been in touch, I've just been…"

"Busy? Yeah, Fred said. It's fine. I understand."

"Do you? I was kinda worried that you'd be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Look. I'm sorry…"

Angel had finally checked in and picked up the pissed off email, courtesy of Spike. He had been about to launch into a more convincing excuse about why he hadn't been in contact.

Spike thought he'd save him the embarrassment of having to explain about Buffy.

"It's ok. Fred told me."

"She what!"

Angel couldn't believe that Fred had spoilt his surprise. Disappointment washed through him.

Spike took a breath. He felt so calm.

"It's ok. I'm pleased for you. You deserve a bit of happiness."

"You're pleased for me? Is that all you've got to say?"

"Well… yeah."

"Jesus, Spike! It's the greatest moment of my life and that's all you have to say?"

Spike concentrated. Calm. Calm. He was a sea of tranquillity.

"Well that's great. Yeah. Great. Are they moving into our… the house?"

There was silence.

"Angel?"

"Are who what?"

Oh god. He was trying to hide what was happening, it would help if he could just be honest. Spike gave an audible sigh.

"I've told you its ok. I mean Buffy is Buffy and who wouldn't… and then there's the… anyway, we always said there would be others. Just try not to be too happy, yeah?"

"What did Fred tell you exactly?"

"Don't blame her. There were no details, just that you and Buffy were seeing each other…"

"Me and Buffy…? And it's ok? You're_ happy_ for me? How frigging mature of you. You don't feel like you ought to fight against it a little?"

Spike wondered why he sounded angry, but who knew with his sire. Hot, cold, angry. loving… never seemed much rhyme or reason to it. He tried again.

"I know I can be selfish git, but there's little enough happiness in this world, if you've found a piece then hold on to it."

There was a moment's silence.

"I intend to."

He sounded solemn, as though he'd uttered words of great import.

"Oh. Good."

Spike choked slightly. Must have been something he ate caught in his throat.

"I'll catch you later."

"Ok."

The line went dead.

It felt odd. There had been no appreciation of the effort he'd made. No small words of affection. He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn't going to worry about these things anymore. He'd left that orbit and was no longer an Angel satellite. So he pulled on the clothes, tousled his hair and put on the attitude. It was time to get on with living his life once more.

There was some sort of celebration tonight, which they insisted he attended. He couldn't remember what it was, if they'd ever told him. He'd kind of miss coming back and chatting to Angel about his evening.

The door bell rang and his place was invaded. He'd forgotten that they were congregating here before moving on.

"Will, babe. You're not going out in that T-shirt. It's a bloody celebration not a wake. Where's that sexy, little, show-it-all thing that you had on last week?"

"What thehell have you done to you hair. Here stand still. Where's your gel. Now ain't that better. Oy, mate, where are all your bleedin' mirrors?"

This was worse than the slayer makeover. No detail was too small. His chunky bracelet was changed for a black leather shoe sting affair. A silver ear cuff was pressed around the tip of his ear. They almost managed to smother him in some poncey smelling designer shit, but he drew the line.

"Will you get off me? Sod off, you wankers. What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

"Come on, Will. We're going to a new club tonight. Opening night. You gotta look your best else you let the side down."

That he could believe. Image was everything to these people, but he felt a bit miffed nonetheless. Did he look so terrible that they had to come around and dress him before he went out?

"You're focused on the wrong bloke then. I mean, who wears a caterpillar like that on their lip these days?"

His tone was snarky, but did its job, as he successfully managed to divert attention from himself and they found someone else to pick on.

"Yeah. See what you mean, but it sort of goes with the bum fluff on his chin."

"Hey. I'll have you know that some guy told me I looked the spit of Orlando."

"I remember that bloke. I tripped over his white stick and landed on his guide dog."

He put his hand over his ears.

"I'm not listening. I'm not listening. You're all just frigging jealous."

"Yeah, dead jealous. I really wish I could grow bum fluff like that on my face."

oooo

Spike leant against a pillar watching the ebb and flow of the crowds, feeling remote from it all. An observer behind the glass watching the show: the poseurs, the newbies and the tourists. He wondered what the hell he was doing here. Pills and poppers and alcohol didn't really help, merely fogged reality for a few hours. It wasn't mature and it wasn't adult but it did help him forget. Although, increasingly he found that there was a lot he wanted to remember. Like Angel's smile, large brown eyes that would turn bright with laughter or dark with lust. Physical details such as the small raised mole next to his eye, the strength in the arms as they held him, the sound of his voice and the brush of breath as unfamiliar words were whispered into his ear.

Something was nagging inside telling him he'd bollocksed up real life. It seemed ironic that he'd spent weeks trying to lose himself in make believe and now, as he once again accepted reality, he truly felt lost. Angel had given up on him and left him to drift in this sea. He felt a wave of self-pity but resolutely fought it down. He was moving on, just as Angel had.

Except he wasn't quite sure he was ready. He no longer loved Angel, but still there was a certain amount of habit mixed in with his previous obsession. Thoughts would turn automatically to his dark haired sire, critical eyes would evaluate and compare every one he encountered and find them lacking. He recognised that it might take a little time. A hundred years of believing himself in love was a helluva thing to get over with a click of the fingers.

Suddenly he felt depressed and didn't want to be here, stuck in a noisy hot club.

"Mick? I'm going home."

"You can't go yet! The night's 'ardly begun."

"Just tired."

"Pinhead has got just what you need. Little pick-me-ups. Here…"

"Nah. I just wanna…"

"You want to go home and brood about your doctor bloke. It's not the way, Will. You shouldn't cut yourself off from people that care about you."

Spike gave a hollow laugh. Good advice, but four days too late.

"No. I shouldn't."

"Look. I'm not stupid. I know that look. You're down and lost, but you have friends that care and will look after you. You don't always have to be strong, you know? Sometimes you can lean on us. If you can take nothing else from us, take our company."

Spike was genuinely touched.

"Yeah, uh, thanks. Sorry I've been so… You've been a good mate."

"Yep, and about time you appreciated it. C'mon, let's go up on the balcony, we can watch everyone and take the piss out of them, you always enjoyed that."

"Nah, s'okay. I know you've had your eye on that bloke all night. You go do your stuff, a couple of people have spotted me and I don't think I'm gonna escape."

"Well, if you're sure. No running home when I'm not looking, right?"

"Go. I'll catch you later."

He turned back and leant against his pillar. There was no doubt they'd seen him.

"Is that you, Spike? What you doing here?"

Two slayers were cuddled into each other and laughing up with bright eyes.

"I never knew you were gay!"

"I'm not." He growled.

"Well, obviously not, silly." The other girl berated her friend. "Remember Buffy? He's bi."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not bi, either."

They looked at him in curiosity. "So…"

"I think the word you're struggling to find is 'vampire'."

"Oh. Are all vampires…?"

"As far as I know, unless they've got some serious hang-ups from their human days."

"See? This is why we need you here. Old Fogarty would never have taught us stuff like that."

"Well, you're supposed to be staking the vamps so vampire sexuality don't exactly enter into it."

"He's gotta point, but still it's interesting. Anyway, there's some gadgee eyeing you up, best let you stand alone so that you can try to look intriguing and mysterious."

"Some of us don't need to try, luv. Some of us are intriguing and mysterious."

They giggled and left arm-in-arm.

He could see the man they meant and gave him a frank appraisal. He felt so zoned out and disconnected, maybe this was what he needed. The man interpreted the appraisal as a come-on and with a predatory smile made a beeline directly for him. Spike imagined being on the balcony and watching this scene, him and Mick taking bets on the outcome. Ah well. May as well play to the crowd. He affected a nonchalant pose and took a swig of his drink.

The guy reached him and leaned casually next to him, invading his space and ensuring he had Spike's attention. He was acting as though he thought he was the one in control of this encounter and Spike was merely prey, to be hunted and swept of his feet. Spike's lips twitched at the thought that any human would have the gall to hunt him.

"So opening night, what do you think of it?"

Spike looked around. It was a nightclub, sleek and new. It had a slightly tacky prison theme, with 'convicts' dancing enthusiastically behind their bars. Still, people seemed to like it.

"Yeah. It should do well."

"Hmmm. Glad you think so. By the way, I'm Griff. The owner."

He smiled and waited expectantly for the gush of enthusiasm.

_That_ was his chat up angle? He owned a bleedin' nightclub? Spike started to laugh, which took the man aback. Not the reaction he was expecting.

"What?"

"Sorry, pet. I'm not playing my part very well, am I? Here let me try again."

Spike had been seducing people for over a century, it had been his bread and butter, so to speak, and he couldn't resist turning the tables on this cocksure human. He looked around the nightclub with wide innocent eyes and then gazed back at the man.

"Bloody hell, all this is yours?" His tone lowered into a seductive purr. "Pretty impressive. I bet you'd like to show me around, yeah? Maybe the penthouse upstairs? Your waterbed and huge TV screen showing non-stop porn?"

"How did you know…?"

"I know you, pet. I know you're imagining it now, aren't you? Silky white skin against your satin black sheets. Is it getting to you, Griff? Hot sticky thoughts in your head." Spike's voice had dropped another notch and it buzzed through the man, vibrating deep in his body, touching places no one had ever touched before.

He abruptly realised that this blonde guy was playing him and he was feeling caught somewhere between annoyed and incredibly aroused. It flashed through his mind that he might be a little out of his league, but he couldn't stop. He was desperate for this honey, who stood and mocked him.

He became slightly breathless as he stared into hypnotic blue eyes.

"You must know that you're the most stunning man in here." His voice was dark and husky.

Now that was an improvement as far as chat up lines went and Spike rewarded him by turning slightly, so that they were within inches of one another.

"You think so, pet?"

There was heat burning in the man's gaze.

"Yeah. Are you taken?"

Spike's tongue flickered out and moistened his lips. This bloke was pretty good looking, with his tanned skin, dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes. There was a hint of Brad Pitt about him. Nothing like Angel's dark beauty, but still, he was ok. At the thought of Angel he became slightly pissed off, until he remembered that he was now perfectly calm, tranquil, moving on. He hoped Angel's spy was here taking pictures just to prove how far he was moving on.

He shook his head, "No, I'm not taken."

The man drew his gaze away from that fascinating tongue.

"Do you want to be?" He whispered, the scent of desire rolling off him.

Yet despite his confident words the man was aware that he was no longer in control of this encounter. Spike gave an enigmatic smile, cocked a dark brow and swaggered on to the dance floor in the surety that he was being watched and followed. He could admit that this wasn't the person he wanted, but maybe it was better than nothing, so he let the dark beat of the music fill him, moving with an arrogance and grace that let the whole club know that he was the most mesmerising creature here. His porcelain skin glowed underneath ultraviolet strobes and he became a mythical being caught in a mundane world. The other guy writhed around him, never taking his eyes off him.

The dance song finished and instead of being smoothly mixed into the next the dj's voice sounded low and sultry over the sound system.

"I don't normally do requests, but this one is for Spike, so enjoy it, baby."

The song began with low, tinkling notes. Almost eerie after the heavy beat, the drum based rhythm and the sweaty frenzy of the previous tracks.

Spike was puzzled. No one here knew him by this name and he assumed that it was for someone else. But his friends were dragging his would-be partner out of the way, hissing words into his ears.

The nightclub owner was remonstrating with them.

"No. Not him. If I'd realised it was him I'd never have allowed…"

His voice was drowned by the music, as a clear, piping voice began to sing liltingly:

"_Who knows what tomorrow brings  
In a world few hearts survive."_

Spike looked around in confusion and could see a path opening up through the crowd.

The air was hazy with dry ice, but a dark figure was emerging through it, like a warrior striding through early morning mist. Indistinct and clothed in smoke, even so the figure was unmistakeable.

"Peaches?" he whispered.

In his astonishment he almost forgot that he no longer loved him.

Angel smiled.

Harsh cracked tones began to sing.

_"All I know, is the way I feel  
When it's real, I keep my prayer alive"_

Angel was walking towards him and Spike would swear that it all happened in slow motion, because he caught every single detail. The way the hair was swept back as though caught in some otherworldly breeze, the white v neck and the slight flare of his tailored jacket, a glinting smile and a question in his eyes.

"_The road is long, there are mountains in our way,  
But we climb a step every day."  
_

He looked young and happy. And sexy. He oozed sex appeal with every movement and every expression. The twitch of his mouth, the slow blink of his eyes, the prowling, predatorial steps. This wasn't the Angel he knew, the one that hated attention and show. Spike had never seen him look so confident and gorgeous, and could only watch with round astonished eyes.

The crowd seemed to open naturally between them, as momentous in its way, as the parting of the Red Sea. They had caught on before him and were watching with avid interest. At that moment, Angel was the focus of every heated look. People were catcalling to him, reaching out and pleading for him to take them. Angel just laughed and shook his head. Spike had never seen him so assured. He was moving with all the ease and grace of a panther stalking its prey. Now his eyes were fixing on Spike with an unwavering gaze as the music rose to a crescendo.

"_Love lifts us up where we belong  
Where the eagles cry on a mountain high"_

They were moving towards each other, hardly realising what they were doing. They blazed in the darkness. Two bodies attracted to each other, experiencing the pull of gravity and caught helplessly in each other's orbit.

"_Love lifts us up where we belong  
Far from the world below  
Up where the clear winds blow"_

The song clicked into place. And so did the film. An Officer and Gentleman. Richard Gere. Spike suddenly broke free of his trancelike progress and began to feel a little anxious. He started to back away, but his friends were at his back and refusing to let him budge an inch.

There was no way, no frigging way on God's green earth…

"Christ, no! Peaches! Angel! Don't…"

His eyes were widening with horror.

"_Some hang on to 'used to be'  
Live their lives looking behind  
All we have is here and now"_

Angel gave an evil chuckle, but his eyes were filled with such love it made Spike speechless and he dropped his own eyes in confusion. He didn't know what was happening. Ok, he could admit that it had maybe been too early to declare himself free from Angel's sphere of gravity, but why was his sire even here… where was Buffy? What the hell was happening? He glanced up shyly. Why were brown eyes glinting so evilly, as though Angelus was shining out of them? He fought for sense and then remembered.

"Buffy…?"

"No. I'm Angel."

"You're with…"

"If I don't have you, then I have no one."

"_All our lives out there to find t__he road is long  
There are mountains in our way  
But we climb a step every day"_

"I choose you, Spike. Always you. You're my sun and I can't escape you if I wanted to."

Not a satellite enslaved to its star, but a binary system, two blazing suns, circling each other through eternity.

Spike's jaw dropped. His eyes began to sting but it was just the damned smoke.

"You choose…? What do you mean?"

Angel reached him, took his face in his hands and kissed him. Spike stubbornly resisted with all his strength. He didn't love Angel anymore. It was over. Then Angel moaned softly and Spike melted inside. He couldn't struggle against this feeling that swept over his body and left him weak. He didn't care about anything, all he needed was this dancing electricity that sparked between them and made their bodies light up as though truly alive. He opened his mouth and allowed Angel in, hardly aware of the swelling music or the explosion of applause that crashed around them.

"_Love lifts us up where we belong  
Far from the world we know  
Up where the clear winds blow"_

Angel reluctantly drew back and stared as if captivated.

"Jeez, you are so beautiful."

Spike looked bemused and slightly dazed. The pressure of Angel's lips was still zinging through his nervous system.

"Trust me."

He gave a look of sheer disbelief.

"Trust...? You must be sodding joking."

There was that crazy look back in those brown eyes.

"Peaches?" Spike queried nervously. "Angel! Don't you dare! I'll sodding… ohhh f…!"

Too late. Angel had caught him around the waist and swept him over his shoulder and was now striding back out of the club, like some prehistoric caveman with his captured mate. The cheers were lifting the rafters. They'd never had a floor show like it!

"_Time goes by  
No time to cry  
Life's you and I, alive, Baby"_

"Stop struggling Spike. It makes you look undignified."

"I'm over your shoulder with my sodding ass stuck in the air and you think struggling is gonna make me look undignified?" Spike hissed back. "You're dead, Angel. You are so frigging dead. I'm gonna…"

"Hush, childe. You need to be more gracious in defeat."

Spike felt the welcome breeze as they finally hit the outside air. He could still hear the strains of the damned song and the club going wild.

"_Love lift us up where we belong  
Where the eagles cry on a mountain high"_

He ducked through the open car door and let Spike wriggle off his shoulder and immediately caught the fist that tried to connect with the side of his head. Spike took another breath and recited his mantra. Calm. Calm. Another breath

"Angel…"

He struggled to form a question and then he looked around, taking in the long sprawl of leather, soft music, a bottle of champagne on ice and two glasses fizzing in front of him.

He changed his original question to something more immediate.

"Where am I?"

"In the back of a stretch limo. I thought of a motorbike, but to tell the truth? I was afraid you might run."

Maybe he was still afraid. His fingers were untying Spike's laces and pulling off his boots, as if ensuring he that wouldn't be going anywhere.

"Right... A limo. Why?"

"Because I love you."

Spike knew there was no such thing as love. Unless two people believed in it. And then it could become as real and strong as faith could make it, moving mountains, casting out devils and healing wounds.

The boots were removed and he swung Spike's legs up on to the soft, white leather of the seat. Angel rubbed the arch of his foot, before pulling him so that he slithered forward until his legs were straddled around Angel's waist and they were sitting face-to-face, chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin. Angel was toying with the buttons of his shirt, a half smile on his lips.

"Ok." His Sire had carried him from the club and removed his boots. Now he was… Spike wasn't quite sure, but it felt a little like flirting. Angel was flirting with him. The pressure had obviously gotten too much for him and he was going insane. Best speak slowly and carefully.

"Why did you just carry me out of that club?"

Angel made a little 'please don't be cross with me face'.

"Cus I love you." He gave a faux, little boy glance from beneath his eyelashes, a small smile playing tentatively around his mouth. "And I want everyone to know."

"You… I…"

Spike couldn't believe this was his broody git of a sire. Words refused to form and he ended up just staring, before curling up and burying his face in Angel's shoulder. His body was shuddering and for a second Angel was worried that he'd taken it all too far. He pulled Spike back so that he could gaze at his face. Then realised that his eyes were bright with mirth and his body was shaking with laughter. Angel grinned in relief and pulled him close, nestling his cheek against spiky blonde hair that he'd only ever seen on his monitor. It felt good, but it smelt of gel and human hands, which masked its natural fragrance. He wanted to cascade water over it, wash away all scents and nuzzle into clean soft hair.

"Never in a million years did I ever think… and bleeding hell! And Christ, I can't ever show my face in that club again!"

"Yeah. That was sort of the idea too. So, good plan eh?"

Angel looked smug and Spike gazed at him in outrage.

"I'm bloody ruined! My rep… my bleedin' street cred! You complete git, Angel!"

"Yeah. Sorry." To do him credit he tried to pull a sorry face as he twisted a lock of blonde hair through his fingers.

"You realise I'm going to make you pay for that"

"I'm counting on it."

The wicked smile was back. Angel was flirting with him. Again. This was all too much for one small vampire to comprehend. So for a few minutes he decided not to even try. Instead he laid quietly, his head cradled against Angel's chest, and all pretence of not loving his Angel fell away.

TBC


	12. Forever

**_Disclaimer_:** Nope, not mine. Joss's, ME's etc.

**_Warning: _**A little suggestion of m/m sex

**_Summary: _**Another scar is healed

**_A/N: _**Apologies for fluff of last chapter :g: but hey, even I get sick of angst, so just let rip :hangs head in shame: The next story is being beta'd (undying gratitude to Stars) so she may rein me in a bit in future. Thanks so much for sticking with me. I really appreciated your comments and support :hugs: even the person who completely guessed the plot, I forgive you! lol

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Forever**

Spike felt the earlier hysteria leave him and now he felt empty. He still knew no more than he did when he was sitting by himself gazing hopefully at his inbox.

"What's going on, Peaches? You ain't spoken to me all week and now…"

Angel turned to him in amazement. Couldn't he see it shining out from every pore? Hear the veneer of emotion that overlaid his every word?

"Can't you see it? Don't you hear it?"

"See what? Hear what?"

Angel stared at him and Spike had the grace to avert his eyes.

"Don't be so stubborn."

Spike shrugged.

"Ok. You're happy that's what's different. So tell me about Buffy."

Again he felt a sting of astonishment and hurt. How could Spike still ask questions like that?

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

"Look… you kinda told me about it on the phone earlier. And that's great. You, Buffy, kid... yeah, great that you're happy, but it don't exactly answer me question. What are you doing here and what's going on?"

Angel raised his eyebrows and gave a half smile.

"Do you really think I'm setting up home with her?"

"Yes." The smile baffled him and he frowned in confusion. "I don't know. It seems…logical."

"So that's what your brain told you. What did your heart say? What did it say when I walked across the pit of hell for you?"

"It was a dance floor, Peaches. And it didn't say anything." Spike lied.

The car purred smoothly through the night, the interior fragrant with the scent of leather and wealth. Little lights twinkled in the roof and Spike sprawled backwards into creamy leather and watched them.

Angel watched the sliver of flesh exposed as Spike's T shirt rode up.

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"Cus you've got something important to tell me." The twinkling lights of the car began to blur.

"You don't trust me." Angel said sadly. He knew it might take time and he was prepared to wait. "Think, Spike. You're not stupid."

"Just tell me, get it over with."

"Ok. I'll tell you what you're waiting to hear. I love Buffy."

Spike nodded, as though satisfied to have his belief confirmed.

"But she's not the one. She's not the one I see myself walking beside, laughing with. Fighting and loving with equal passion. I'm kinda in love with you."

Angel dropped his head uncertainly.

"I've told you before, thought you understood the depths… I thought you returned it… I…" He stopped but was unable to meet Spike's eyes.

Spike's heart jolted and he knew he'd been behaving like a complete wanker. Always bloody hiding, this time behind pathetic accusations. He may not always be honest with others but he had something few possessed. Self-honesty. And he knew exactly what he'd been doing with the Buffy thing. Letting his fear in and allowing it to push him away from Angel, because what they had was so close to what he needed it terrified him.

Spike sat up.

"Angel? Look at me." Angel slowly raised his downcast eyes. Spike was staring back with a passion that was frightening. "You are my every waking thought. I fall asleep dreaming of you. This isn't new for me. I've loved you forever and it hurts. It bloody hurts."

Angel reached for him but was held off.

"No let me finish. For a hundred years I've had nothing from you, not a look or flicker that was anything other than contempt. Still I've loved you. Then you seemed to finally see me. Shared your blood and took mine, you reached out in affection, made me your childe. It was perfect. Until Angelus came along…"

"I…" Angel started. But Spike was lost in what he needed to say.

"He offered something akin to love Don't get me wrong, I'm still love's bitch and I thought about accepting what he offered, but in the end the price he asked was more than I could afford to give. Then finally you came back to me, saying everything I wanted to hear, looking at me the way no one has ever looked at me before. And I had to leave. I had to walk away from you. To save you."

His eyes were intense. He needed Angel to understand.

"Do you get it? Do you see what it is to me? Love is suffering. Love is my Mum spitting out evil words. Love is Buffy beating me down. Love is… you."

Dark eyes blinked and a large hand tentatively reached out to clasp the smaller one. His heart ached, his whole body ached that he was part of this anguish and confusion.

"As long as you believe that last bit then that's enough for now. Nothing's going to hurt us ever again. I'll make sure nothing hurts you again."

Mahogany eyes were making promises and begging for trust from doubt-clouded sky blue ones.

"But how…?"

Angel shushed him gently, thought for a second and then he reached forward and pulled out a box, wrapped in shiny gold with red ribbons.

"For you."

Spike looked at it suspiciously but began untying the bow with unsteady fingers.

"Uh… Chocolates?"

He looked with disbelief. He'd poured out his heart in a mucky flow of hurt and angst and Angel gave him chocolates.

"Yeah, well. Cheers."

"See. I remembered. If I wanted to win you then chocolates but not flowers because…"

Suddenly Spike remembered too.

"Then I'd have to kill you." Spike finished in a whisper.

"I remember everything you've ever said." Angel replied tenderly stroking a stray lock off his forehead. "I've dreamt of this moment, planned for this moment. The Richard Gere thing, sweeping you off your feet, do you know how long it took me to work up the courage to walk into that club and do that? I'm letting the world know that it's you and me. I don't know what else I can do or say. Except what I came here to say; I have a permanent soul and I choose you Spike. If you won't choose me in return then…"

Spike waved him to silence.

"You what? Run that by me again."

"I have a permanent soul. I won't ever be purely Angelus again."

"Bloody hell."

Spike's mouth formed an 'o' of disbelief.

"I know. That was my reaction too."

He was grinning like a madman once more. He leant forward and grazed his mouth lightly across Spike's. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the touch, the sensation of soft cool lips. He took advantage of Spike's open-mouthed astonishment to let his tongue gently caress inside. It made the world diminish until all that was left was Spike's lips on his, Spike's tongue gradually responding, darting forward and tentatively withdrawing, as though shy of the need being spoken by wordless mouths.

Then Spike was gently pushing him away, needing answers even more than he needed loving kisses.

"Luv? Talk to me. Tell me what's happening, before I sodding murder you."

Angel smiled at him.

"I saved a world." He replied proudly.

"I know. I spoke to you but you didn't seem all glowy then. How did you know about that sorcerer bloke being on his way out, anyway?"

"I was getting nightmares. I thought it was Angelus trying to rattle me. All despair and people dying and blood on the walls. I was haunted by words whispering through my head; 'release me'. Kinda sounded like Angelus. I'd forgotten about Chi'Lustra. Then that night he managed to manifest himself physically. The apparition he sent passed through me. It was cold and despairing and desperate. It sparked the memories of the place. I think I was feeling what he was feeling. The man was close to death before Angelus ever cut his throat. In fact, if he hadn't have brought our attention to that world it would have quietly slipped away."

"Good turns to evil and evil turns to good. Score one for our side, yeah?"

"Yeah. Score one for us."

"So what happened next?"

"I saved the world…"

Spike laughed.

"Don't you just love saying those words?"

Angel's lips twitched in satisfaction.

"Yeah, I do. I saved the world. The result was spellbinding. I wish you could have seen it."

He tried to describe it, attempting to bring it to life, to share this miracle with the person he loved.

"It flowered to life around me. It was beautiful and glorious. Like the creation of Eden in the dawn of time. The air sang to me, it danced with rainbows, I could feel colours, taste sound, hear atoms resonate. No limits, as sound melded into colour. A blade of grass echoed in my head like a golden bell, its molecules danced before me. Everything was suffused in light and sound."

"It sounds beautiful, Pet."

"It truly was. It was glorious. Resonance, harmony and beauty so poignant it would have brought tears to your eyes. The world was exploding with joy and I caused it Spike. I did it. And I was part of it. They offered me a perfect world and it meant nothing without you. I chose you."

"But I think that they sensed the disharmony in me. It was like black scar on a land that blazed wit light. They whispered to me discovered my heart's desire, what blighted it... I was thinking of you and you appeared before them, your eyes alight with laughter and full of joy, you fitted into the spirit of the place and they looked and approved. They loved you too. How could they not? Then that sense of wholeness and completeness. I didn't realise straight away, the whole experience was so overwhelming and euphoric. It wasn't until after talking to you that I realised the struggle of containing a demon was over and I'd been healed."

"Angel…" Spike reached for his hand, eyes bright with wonder. "Why didn't you tell me? I'd have flown back…"

"Because the only surprises I've ever given you have been painful. I've brought nothing into your life except suffering. No… hush. I wanted to sweep you off your feet because I was afraid that if you had a minute to think about it you wouldn't choose me. I wanted to show you how good it could be because it's something you've never really known."

"Hey. I didn't need all this, Pet. Just you, you know? Just you."

"No, you deserve more. You need to know how special you are. Not a dirty little secret to be locked away in the basement. I'm not ashamed of what I feel and I'm not ashamed of you."

"So I don't disgust you then?"

Angel frowned.

"No… Tell me that I've never said a thing like that to you! I know I haven't. You've never disgusted me."

"No. It wasn't you."

"So you ok about this?"

"Don't have much choice do I? After that display in the club there's no chance it's gonna be secret."

"Yeah. I guess it'll work its way back home."

"Pet? There were two slayers in that club. The news will be breaking in China about now."

"Oh…. You know what? I find myself big with the not caring."

"You didn't play the bint in that little scene. It's my image that's been shot down in flames and there will be a reckoning, don't think you'll escape just cus you… care for me."

Angel heard the hesitation.

"You can't admit it, can you? Not just because I care. Because I love you."

He leaned his body threateningly over the smaller vampire.

"Go on say it. Angel loves Spike."

Spike began to laugh, struggling against him.

"Get off me, you sodding bully."

"Say it."

"Oh bloody… get off. Ow! Ok! Angel loves Spike. Satisfied? Angel loves me. You love me."

His eyes stared up, mesmerised by the affection that lit up his Sire's face. His words ended in a soft whisper, as though he was finally accepting such a possibility. Angel hugged him.

"Yeah, Baby, I'm satisfied."

Christ, he was feeling such a wuss but the feeling wasn't strong enough to drag him out of the embrace.

"And how did you manage to set it all up, anyway?"

Angel pulled back and looked a trifle guilty.

"Well ummm… I dragged your friends into it. Made sure they got you to the club. They talked to the owner who thought it would be an excellent stunt for the opening night. Then your friends bribed the dj to play the music…."

"Those gits knew what was happening? I thought they were in a strange mood tonight."

"Spike, why do they think I'm your doctor?"

"Cus I told them that you cured me of my fits. Why? What's the matter, Pet?"

Angel played with his fingers.

"It's unethical for me to be seeing you. What must your friends think of me?"

Spike's jaw dropped open.

"You're bloody serious aren't you?"

"I want to create the right kind of impression."

"Angel. Looking the way you do, I can guarantee that they're going to love you."

He read the scepticism and realised that Angel was a bout to brood.

"What's wrong now?" He sighed.

"I don't think Mick likes me much."

"Oh well, Mick. He just wants the best for me."

"What? And I'm not good enough?"

"I was a bit of a state when I came here, Pet. I think he blamed you."

"Oh. He was right to."

"No he wasn't. And I think sorta blamed you too, and that wasn't right either."

"It's ok..."

"No it's not."

Spikes eyes were watching him closely; he shifted nervously and began to feel self-conscious. He blurted out the first thing that came into his head.

"So who was that ugly guy hanging around your neck when I walked in?"

"Ugly guy?" Spike frowned and then realised that he meant the Brad Pitt wannabe and began to laugh. "Ugly?"

"Yeah. He was…"

"Go on, I'm intrigued. Find one thing to criticise about him, just one thing."

Angel thought for a while and then muttered crossly.

"If he was so frigging perfect what are you doing with me?"

"Well, you see. I never said he was perfect. He did have one glaring fault."

Despite himself, Angel couldn't help biting.

"Go on."

"He wasn't you."

Angel tried his best not to look smug.

"Hmmm. I think you'll find quite a few people have this fault."

"Oh, bummer."

"It'll limit your choice a little."

"Yeah, I guess it will."

"And you're ok with that?"

"I'll have to be, won't I? It's not the sort of imperfection I can overlook."

Angel gazed at him, his fingers drawn to flawless cheekbones. He gave in to the urge and began to gently trace the sharp ridges.

"You couldn't be more perfect if you were created just for me."

Spike smiled.

"But, Peaches. I was."

Angel dropped his hand, looked away and was silent. An anxious look darted towards him but was swiftly concealed.

"Right. Why won't you look at me? What's wrong?"

"God, even the sound of your voice… Don't talk. Please."

Now Spike was beginning to feel disgruntled and sank back into the seat, gazing out at Eros poised hopefully atop of his pillar. He felt a wave of antipathy towards the chubby little figure. Bloody Cupid and his stupid arrows, going around confusing everyone. He looked back at Angel and then a scent caught in the back of his throat. He sniffed and found it had permeated the whole car. A rush of desire hit his loins. His insides were turning to water and he was thankful he was seated because his legs had gone weak. He closed his eyes and allowed the heat of Angel's desire to drench his body. A soft moan escaped his lips.

Angel heard the sound and tensed. Spike shifted away, making full use of the stretch part of the car. He needed the distance. They both did.

His Sire wanted him. The dark haired vampire was barely holding himself in check. What had he done or said to provoke this reaction? He bit his bottom lip as he thought.

Angel was gaining control again and then the sultry voice shimmered through the air.

"I've been honed and crafted by three lifetimes to make me perfect for you in this one. You wanna finally discover what's been created for you? Remove me from my packaging and play with your possession? Yeah. I was made for you, Peaches. William taught me how to love; Spike taught me how to be strong."

"Uh." Angel was having difficulty producing coherent words. He cleared his throat, hoping that would help. "What did the latest William teach you?"

Spike gave a wicked chuckle.

"If you're lucky I might show you later."

"Ugh?" He was definitely beyond words now,

"I'll be every fantasy you've ever had. Do you want me, Luv? Do you wanna kiss me until I'm moaning for you? Tease me until I'm begging for you? Do you want to feel these hands gliding over your beautiful body?"

Angel's heated gaze was scorching through him. His voice became huskier.

"Cus I wanna see you, laid out and naked for me. I wanna touch you and watch as you throw your head back in desire, feel your lust-filled eyes burning into me. Will you plead with me?" Spike licked his own lips at the thought of those lips parted and moaning his name. "I need to see your body aching for me, straining towards my touch. Trembling beneath my hands. You need it too, don't you, Pet? You'd lay there and you'd do anything for me wouldn't you? I know that you would."

Just the act of Spike saying it made it true, made Angel want it with every thought in his head and every fibre of his body. His whole body was hard and tense and ready to explode. He was consumed by need. The power of that voice was like the gentle and persuasive suggestions of a hypnotist. There was nothing he wouldn't want at the suggestion of that voice.

"Spike…"

He could make out the dark figure and the shining fever of his eyes.

"You need me don't you? Well I need you too. I'll be whatever you want. I'll meet you in passion. Surpass you in desire. I'll lay down for you and I'll take you. I'll be your companion, your solace, your friend. I'm yours, Sire. Use me."

Angel's eyes were black; his face held a trace of a flush and his lips were parched.

"We'll go back to your place now." His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Sire."

"Oh God!"

Spike lifted the handset.

"Home, please."

The car turned at his instruction.

"We'll be there soon."

"Yeah, good." Angel breathed; trying to quash the screaming need that had surfaced through every pore of his body, drown out the images that Spike had placed into his head. Then he remembered.

"Oh frigging hell and damnation!"

"Now what?"

"Your friends. They're going to be there. You left last time without saying goodbye properly. In return for helping me they insisted on a farewell party."

"Did they?"

"Uh huh. They're going to be there."

"S'okay, Angel. We have plenty of time and these feeling aren't going anywhere. I'm glad about the party. They've kinda grown on me too and I wanna say goodbye this time."

Angel shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he'd have time for a shower first. A cold one.

"Guess we'd better go face the music."

"Literally."

The thought of the party was like a douse of cold water.

"Jesus, Spike. Do you know how much I hate parties? Why the hell am I putting myself through this?" He sighed.

"Because you love me?" He pouted.

Angel gave a small laugh, delighted to hear Spike finally accepting the truth.

"Jeez, you're gonna be manipulating me with those words and that look for the rest of my unlife, aren't you?"

Spike merely waited and Angel knew he still needed the reassurance. Maybe he always would.

"Yes. Because I love you." He agreed.

Spike nodded in satisfaction and reached for the glass that had been untouched until now, he raised it slightly in salute and knocked back the contents in a gulp, hoping to quench the fire that had been smouldering inside. Bubbles and fizz built up in his gut and exploded in a gratifyingly manly belch. Angel rolled his eyes and Spike smirked, gazing out of the windows. No more talk of desire and gradually the heavy, heated atmosphere dissipated, leaving lingering warmth. Instead, they enjoyed undemanding companionship as they drank fizzy wine and nibbled on sweet, creamy chocolates. It felt good to have someone to share the simple stuff with.

Spike looked out on streets he knew so well. He felt as if he was drunk or high. He was being fed chocolates and champagne, floating in leather and luxury gazing at his home city. Most extraordinary of all, Angel was looking at him as though he was something precious and words of love were still ringing between them. He watched a party of girls drift by. They were dressed as cowboys and spinning fake guns, laughing so hard they had tears on their face.

"What are you thinking?"

"Thinking I love this place. It's got bits of every city in the world mixed in. Italian architecture and American diners. It's the only city in the world where everyone can fit in. It's full of eccentrics and clashing cultures and yet in the end it all bubbles down to just being London.

Angel guts clenched.

"You don't want to leave." His brain was whirring in panic. "I get that. I do. It's selfish to assume you'll just drop everything and join me. But it doesn't have to be L.A. We could set up here…"

Spike listened to this flood of anxious words with affection.

"Angel. I'm coming back with you. It's my home town that's all and I'm proud to come from somewhere like this. Don't you feel like that about Galway?"

"I've, uh, never been able to face going back. I kinda decimated the place."

"Huh. So you bear scars too. You always seem so strong."

"Sometimes the scars are all that hold me together."

"Not anymore. You've got me to help hold you together. One day we'll go to Galway."

Angel looked at him trustingly.

"Ok. One day."

The car stopped.

"Is this it? It looks like it should contain apartments."

It was a fairly imposing town house. Spike nodded

"Most of the others do but this one was never converted."

"It must be worth a fortune."

"S'pose."

It felt weird having Angel cross over into this life he'd begun to make for himself.

"Come on in."

Angel looked around curiously and compared it with what they had in L.A. This place had furnishings and gadgets. It was lived in.

"You know, when we get back…"

Spike began to laugh.

"Yeah, sure. We'll go finish that shopping trip we began a couple of lifetimes ago."

Angel caught his breath.

"It has been for you, hasn't it? Two life times ago? You died as Spike and you died as William."

"Yeah. So, no Spike and no William. What does that make me now?"

Angel looked at the lean, blonde vampire, confident, strong and sexy yet uncertain and sweetly vulnerable. So many questions hidden in the depths of his eyes. Spike. His soon to be lover. Complex and confusing and…

"Mine." He replied quietly.

The door crashed open with perfect timing and human noise and scents burst around them. They were singing that bloody song. It sounded like a few of the slayers had also got wind of the party because they were joining in enthusiastically with the female part.

One of the girls was laughing.

"Lord, I'd have loved to have seen that."

"He was bloody stotting!"

"Damned brave man that doctor of his."

"He's not a doctor, he's Angel."

They began singing again.

Spike listened in horror.

"Christ. It wasn't my favourite song to begin with…"

"I know. Sorry. I tried to find a punk one but the words never really… and to be honest the music…"

"Yeah. Three chord songs and a mouthful of profanities. Still, I kinda needed my rep, Peaches. You'd better think of a way to restore it."

The door to the living room banged open.

"William! So this him is it?"

"Yeah. Angel, Mick. Mick, Angel."

There was some tension.

"Will's been my best friend, like forever."

Angel nearly growled. He had no doubt about what the human was doing. The man was asserting a prior claim on Spike. He affected an air of superior nonchalance.

"Really? Spike, never mentioned you."

Spiked eyed them both warily.

"Okaaay. So, this is Deej."

Angel was suddenly surrounded by warm limbs as Deej threw himself around him.

"You're even more delicious in real life!"

Angel mouthed at Spike, "Delicious?"

Spike gave a wicked grin.

"Yeah, he is isn't he?"

Mick caught the exchange and looked between the two. His rising hackles gradually smoothed. He'd hated Angel for a while now. He'd never asked Will about Angel's rejection but had despised him for the pain he'd caused his friend. Now he could almost see the tendrils of their bond and sighed. Who was he to judge? William was happy now.

"Any friend of Will's has to endure Deej, as well. Sorry, Mate. Just the way it is." Mick laughed.

Angel struggled to disentangle himself, whilst Spike sniggered at his discomfort.

"So you leaving us again then Will?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Keep in touch this time? Let us know how you are."

Spike nodded, not sure if he would or not. He knew the friendship had been created out of nothing and they didn't really fit into his L.A. life. They didn't even know he was a frigging vampire. They weren't part of his and Angel's world. Yet despite everything he knew, he still felt like they were longstanding friends.

Angel must have sensed something of his dilemma because his eyes were boring holes into him as though he could drill inside Spike's head and see what was going on. And maybe he did. He turned to Mick.

"You'll have to come and visit. I know Spike will miss you."

"I might just do that. Make sure that you're treating our boy right."

"Good. That's decided. Wait a few weeks until we get a bit settled and then you're welcome."

Mick moved off more contented than when he'd entered the room.

"Luv?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you."

"You need your friends too. People who 'get' you."

"I only said that cus I needed to leave."

"I figured. But it's also kind of true."

The night continued without incident. A slayer actually managed to attract one of Spike's friends and odds were being calculated and bets brokered. Angel glanced at his watch.

"Spike? Have you got your things packed?"

"My spare jeans, black T and red shirt?"

"Yeah, right. I've seen the clothes you've been wearing recently. Go pack them. I want you to be able to wear them for me."

Spike looked at him in surprise and then his tongue curled between his lips. Angel was mesmerised by that pink piece of flesh.

"Ok. But why do I have to do it now?"

He nearly said that it was because the car would be here in half an hour to take them to the airport. Then changed his mind and decided to test something.

"Because I want you to, and you love me."

"What?"

"Cus you love me."

Spike looked as though he was going to resist but then turned and stomped up the stairs swearing and cursing manipulative wankers. Angel filed away the reaction with interest. Only to be used in emergencies obviously… He ran up to help and admitted to his pouting childe that it would be time to leave soon.

"We'll fly during the day?"

"Yeah. Going first class. I'm your doctor and you have a skin complaint. Extremely sensitive to light. They're rigging some sort of curtain affair for us."

"Christ. I think I'd rather travel in a coffin."

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't get the free alcohol…"

Spike thought about it, weighing up the pros and cons before reaching his decision.

"I'm sure it'll be a really sturdy curtain."

oooo

Angel suppressed a smile as Spike lit up yet another cigarette, attempting to hide how jittery he was. They were finally going home. And what a hell of a journey it had been.

"You, ok?" He asked.

Spike wobbled his hand and Angel understood. The ramifications of the permanent soul were beginning to sink in. There was nothing left to hide behind, no excuses. All that was left was the two of them. It was almost scary. Correction. It was terrifying. And exhilarating. It was freefalling and both of them were waiting to hit the ground, because that's the way it seemed to work for them.

"It's going to be alright. You know that?"

Spike hadn't stopped talking for the first few hours and now Angel could hardly get a word out of him. He drew in another lungful of nicotine and nodded.

"Course."

They fell into silence again as Angel swung the car off the freeway.

"Just need to get home." Spike clarified. "Get back to normal. Whatever that is."

Then a sly smile lit up his face.

"Our first time alone, eh Peaches."

Angel's face closed down and a small frown appeared. Spike noticed.

"What's the matter?"

Probably better to tell him now.

"I want you to stay calm, ok?"

Spike just gazed at him, a small crease appearing between his dark brows. He tapped a cylinder of ash through the window.

"Go on."

"I'm doing it for the best."

"Ok."

There wasn't really an easy way to do this. Angel sighed. He could see that Spike was beginning to get tense.

"Bleedin' hell! Will you just tell me already?"

They were travelling down the road and approaching their house.

"I am. I will. It's just that, you know, back home..."

He could see that Spike's limited patience was near snapping point.

"Buffy's there."

Spike took another lungful of smoke and smouldering nicotine. Well he hadn't freaked yet, which had to be good.

"It's still my home too, right?"

Angel nodded his agreement. Of course it was.

"I don't want her there."

"It's too late. So you'll have to see her whatever. See them." He corrected.

"Them…"

"Yeah."

"If they're staying then I'm not."

"Jeez. Do you have to make this so difficult? They're not staying. Just visiting."

"How long for?"

"I guess it depends how uncomfortable you make them feel."

"So they won't be there long then."

They were bouncing along the drive and the soothing atmosphere was weaving its magic tendrils around them and some of the tension began melting away. The place had that affect on them. Spike began to feel like a prat, but was unwilling to back down.

"It's one thing after another with you, ain't it? When do I get time to catch my breath?"

"You don't need to breathe."

Angel was only attempting to lighten the atmosphere but realised he just sounded facetious. Spike gave him a look of disbelief.

"Cheers. Just what I need."

"Sorry."

"They here now?"

"Yeah."

Spike got out of the car, straightened his shoulders and masked his face in indifference.

"Showtime."

Angel watched as he withdrew behind his Spike persona.

"It's not about putting on a show…"

"You've forced this on to me, Angel. Well, strictly speaking, Buffy forced this on to me. Now I've gotta handle it the only way I know how. So let's go."

oooo

Buffy waited anxiously. She tried to swallow it down. It was only Spike and he'd loved her, like, forever. It took more than one little thing for a love like that to suddenly click off. Except maybe this wasn't so little. Angel had told her how the baby had been used against him. Told her how Spike had tried to stake Angelus to save him. She looked down at the sleeping face, the delicate crescent of his lashes casting shadows upon his cheeks. She'd sent Angel to hell to save the world. Spike had also made the decision to kill Angel but he did it for this child. How he must hate the baby for that. The way she'd hated the world for a very long time after pushing the sword through Angel's body.

She heard the car and peered out of the window. The headlights were switched off and a rush of anxiety flooded through her. She hadn't seen Spike since the fight against hell. Since then he'd experienced a different variety of hell. Would it have changed him? Being tortured by Angelus for weeks must surely have changed him. Part of her wanted to run and not have to face this. She didn't want to see the coldness in his face or the rejection in his eyes. But she'd played her part in Spike's drama and now it was time to face the consequences.

She heard the front door opening and she no longer had the option of running away. Buffy trusted Angel, but she was fairly certain that this was a really bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Bordering on terrible. Oh God. Showtime.

Angel entered first and gave her a reassuring smile. Her mouth wobbled on the edge of a smile and then he was there. They looked at each other for a second with Angel tensely watching over them.

"Hey, Slayer. How's it going?"

He cocked his head to one side and Buffy could have cried with relief that he was being so normal. She began to relax slightly.

"It's, well, not exactly peaches and cream, but you know, getting there."

"Yeah? Heard you had a hard time of it."

Angel shifted awkwardly, but Spike ignored his discomfort.

"I guess."

She found it difficult to talk about. Should she say how often she awoke to darkness, gasping for air, certain she was trapped in a coffin? Or how many times she had dreamt that her son had been taken again, and she would have to lift him from his cot and curl up around him just to be sure he was still there in the morning? Instead she shrugged.

"You know me. I'm a survive-y thing."

Spike frowned, as if confused.

"Survive-y thing?" He slowly nodded his understanding. "Oh, like a cockroach?"

Buffy stiffened a look of hurt flashing in her eyes. Angel gave a frown. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

Spike just shrugged.

"Sorry. Couldn't think of any other natural survivors."

She put her hands on her hips and thrust her jaw out belligerently.

"Well there's you. Guess that makes us two cockroaches together?"

It definitely wasn't a good idea. Too early. Too early for both of them.

A smile tugged reluctantly at the corners of Spike's mouth.

"You're right there, Pet. No one steps on us, eh?

Buffy gradually relaxed and returned the smile.

"Not if they wanna take another step they don't."

Angel's stress levels began to return to normal.

Buffy looked across and all she could see was the Spike she'd always known, the William she had reluctantly left behind. She wanted to reach out and hold him, apologise, tell him she'd never meant to hurt him.

He could see the way her eyes were softening as she gazed at him. He blinked and turned away and then wished he hadn't. His eyes fell on the travel cot and his breath hitched. He wanted to walk out now. He'd been good, played his part, surely that was enough? His eyes turned to Angel. Angel shook his head.

"I'll go heat up some blood for us. It's been a while. We need to eat."

Spike stared at him, his eyes pleading for him not to go. Angel turned to walk out and then changed his mind. He walked back to Spike, took a hand and kissed him.

"You're doing great." He whispered softly. "Jeez. So proud of you."

Spike felt his panic subside and he nodded that he was ok. Angel slowly released his hand and left.

Buffy stared at them. She knew that they cared for each other, but to actually see it… and now that she had seen, she knew that she had lost. She realised that they had always hung over her future like a question mark, a lingering thought that maybe one day she would choose one of them, now she realised it was only ever a pipe-dream. They'd moved on and it was never going to happen. She was the loser in all this and it made her want cry out her loss. They had each other and it was plain in every look and every gesture that her two loves were as far beyond her as the moon. Yet how could it be otherwise? They belonged to the night, whereas she was a creature of sun and belonged to the day. She looked at her child. Moonlight and sunbeams met in him and she would find comfort in that.

Spike turned back to her and could see fleeting distress pass over her face.

"What? What's wrong, Pet?"

She shook her head. Spike sighed, moved towards her, opened his arms and invited her in. She stood there for a second before burying her face in his neck. She felt so familiar. He breathed in the scent of her hair. It smelt like sunshine and warmth

"I'm sorry, Spike. So sorry. I should have told you. I wanted to surprise you."

Spike remembered his disbelief when Angelus had shared with him.

"Well you succeeded."

"It must have been awful for you, finding out like that…"

"It was…" He didn't know what to say. "…uh, just a bit of a shock. Why didn't you say?"

Buffy gave a sniff.

"It's not like I meant to be all secret squirrel girl." She sighed. "After the battle it was still too early. I didn't really believe it myself until I had my first scan and saw this tiny piece of humanity on the monitor. I wanted to tell you. I was so happy. I wanted to babble it out to you. But it wasn't the time. You were focused on finding Angelus. Then suddenly it was too late. You were gone."

Her grip tightened painfully.

"I thought you were gone." She whispered. "And you'd never know what you'd left behind. You'd never know you had a son."

She was blinking back tears but he had to ask the question that plagued him.

"Why did you do it?"

She looked at him in disbelief.

"Uh, why do you think?"

His arms fell from her and he took a step backwards, pulling out his fags. A flash of a frown passed over his features as he cast an oblique look at the little cot, he gave a grunt of annoyance and tucked them back in his pocket. Forced to confront this without his barrier of smoke and attitude he turned away instead, looking out of a window into the darkness beyond.

"Well?"

"I don't know. I know you said you gradually came to love me but you were never in love with me. Why would you do this with someone you weren't in love with? I know Angel is the love of your life. But you couldn't have him could you?" He said quietly. "So you decided to take me instead. Makes him almost like the grandfather dunnit? Another connection to him."

Buffy listened to the words in astonishment and a slow boiling rage started to build up inside. Her teeth clenched in fury.

"Well, gee! Thanks Spike." She answered brightly.

"Just tell it like I see it, Slayer."

"Guess I know where I stand then."

"Guess we both do."

"I'll be going now."

She meant to pick up her baby and leave with dignity but the sight of his stubborn back infuriated her so much that instead she caught his arm and whipped him around.

"You're a pig, Spike! I don't know what I ever saw in you."

"Something you could hurt and shag, or don't you remember?"

She looked into crystal hard eyes and realised that this wasn't the Spike she'd come to know. This was the chipped vampire, defenceless and vulnerable, hiding his weakness behind an armoury of leather and words and aggressive posturing. Her anger drained away.

"Don't do this." She brushed a hand over his face. "Don't you know why I did it? Don't you know how much I care? I'm not in love with you. I see you as you are. You're brave and loving, prickly and defensive. You want people to care for you but at the same time you push them away. Why do you do that?"

Spike just stared at her and the hard blue crystal splintered to her words.

"I see you clearly with your strengths and your flaws and I love you Spike. You have no idea how much. When I decided to do this my first thought was making you happy, my second, to make me happy. Angel never even made it to last thought. It wasn't about him." She attempted a smile. "It was just you. And when we lay together, I promise you, there was not a single thought of Angel in my head."

"I…" He stopped.

"You don't know what being loved means do you?" She kept her voice strong and free from pity or sympathy but it was broke her up inside to know someone as affectionate as Spike had lived a hundred years in a loveless world.

"Don't be afraid of it, Spike. Don't push us away."

She reached for his hand and pulled him over to the sleeping bundle.

"See? He's perfect. Don't shut him out."

Spike finally looked at the baby. Listened to gentle baby snores. Inhaled the soft scents of baby talc and milk. Watched as little hands clenched into miniature fists, as though he were waiting to take on the world.

He reached down and gently stroked a finger across petal soft skin.

Splintered crystal shattered and fell with the touch.

"Mine?" His voice caught in his throat.

Buffy couldn't speak so she nodded at him.

"Angel said you named him after my Dad…"

"Yeah… I wasn't sure but then I looked up the meaning."

"Yeah?"

"It means 'God remembers'."

Spike blinked.

"Pet? I wasn't created by God. I don't think He sees me at all."

"You're wrong. There is something in this world, call it God or call it Powers That Be, they see you. He's here to remind you, however lost you get, you're never forgotten."

She was rewarded with one of Spike's genuine smiles that occasionally escaped him.

"Thank you. It's a beautiful name, Luv."

"Do you want to hold him?"

He slowly nodded and she smiled and dug the sleeping bundle from his nest. Spike reached out and held his child with all the awkwardness of a new parent.

The innocence and helplessness wrenched at his heart and he had the overwhelming need to protect this slumbering piece of humanity. Such purity should never be corrupted. He cradled the precious warmth to his body. The baby's heart was strong and beat rhythmically against his breast, reverberating though his body. It was as though holding his child brought life to him.

Here was his touchstone with humanity. He could be gone tomorrow but his bit of forever was suspended in the code of human blood that pulsed through the veins of his child.

Angel listened from outside the door. He'd never heard such softness in Spike's voice.

"Hey there. Nice to meet you, Zachary. I'm Spike. Your Dad."

13


End file.
